I've Said Too Much, Yet Not Enough
by TimeforSomethingDifferent
Summary: Kurt would never forget the night that he woke up to have Blaine walking through his bedroom door, bloody and bruised.  Warnings: abuse and some violence in flashbacks  Check author's notes before the chapters for more specific or additional warnings.
1. Chapter 1

Kurt would never forget the night that he woke up to have Blaine walking through his bedroom door, bloody and bruised.

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><p>At 2 AM when Burt Hummel had answered the door to yell at whoever was playing a trick on them, he did not expect what awaited him. Blaine Anderson stood there, blood dripping from his mouth, and Kurt's father was at a loss for words. Seeing Blaine like that was something that he had never anticipated. White t-shirt stained with blood and bruises blossoming on his bare arms, here was the person that was always so tough. Very uncharacteristically, his eyes glistened with unshed tears as they pleaded for Burt to understand. Burt was still half asleep, and somehow he wasn't processing everything he was seeing. Still, he knew that something was very, very wrong.<p>

"I'm sorry," Blaine uttered in a barely audible voice. "I just…just didn't know where else to go. I'm so sorry." Without a word, Kurt's father opened the door wide enough to let Blaine enter, and then he led him up the staircase to Kurt's room. Not even hesitating, he let Blaine into the room where is son was still sleeping, shutting the door behind him. When he reached the bedroom that he shared with Carole, something had finally registered in his brain. It wasn't as if he could just turn around and go back into Kurt's room at that point, but there was no way he was going to get any more sleep that night with his brain spinning in circles.

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><p>Slowly blinking his eyes, Kurt had seen his father silhouetted in the light coming from his closing door. As his pupils adjusted to the darkness, Kurt recognized another figure, and he was suddenly wide awake, his heart thundering in his chest. <em>What the hell is going on? Why did my dad let Blaine into my room at 2 AM? Am I dreaming?<em>

Leaning over to his nightstand, Kurt flicked on his bedside lamp and froze. One look at Blaine was all he needed as he explanation. As Kurt's gaze swept across Blaine's body, the other boy's eyes were blank and expressionless. Blaine was noticeably shaking, and Kurt, suddenly feeling weak-kneed himself, reached out to his boyfriend and beckoned him over. Stiffly, the injured boy obeyed, sitting on the corner of Kurt's bed. Wrapping his arms around Blaine's shaking shoulders, Kurt drew him to his chest. _Have his shoulders always been this frail? _He didn't care that Blaine could probably hear how wildly his heart was pounding.

All he cared about right now was Blaine.

Everything felt like a hazy blur, and Kurt couldn't tell if he was dreaming or not. Though his boyfriend was so broken in his arms, Kurt just couldn't bring himself to feel like it was real. _But if it is... oh, God... if it is real… _

Black curls tickled his fingers as he stroked Blaine's abnormally messy hair. Against his own chest, Kurt could feel Blaine's shallow breathing slowing to match his own. Struggling to keep his throat from closing up, Kurt began softly humming. It wasn't any specific tune, just music. When Kurt used to get upset as a little boy, this was exactly the way his mother used to calm him. No matter what age, music was always important to Kurt.

Burrowing his face into Blaine's curls, Kurt caressed down the side of his bloody face. Brushing away the tears that he found on Blaine's cheeks, Kurt held his boyfriend even tighter._ Even if this is just a dream, I have to be the strong one; I have to take care of Blaine. _Furrowing his brow, Kurt couldn't help but just stare at the hurt boy's face. Even though it sent a sharp, cold jolt through his heart, he couldn't manage to drag his eyes away from his broken boyfriend_._

Trailing his fingers gently across Blaine's injured face, Kurt realized that his boyfriend's eyes were closed, and his breathing was slow and steady. He had fallen asleep in Kurt's lap. Though Blaine's breathing had become steadier, his lovely features were still warped with anxiety. Brushing his lips softly against Blaine's forehead, Kurt pressed a kiss into his boyfriend's fragile skin. _Why does he seem so much more breakable than ever before?_ The frame that Kurt always used to find so sturdy now felt like it could collapse at any minute. Suddenly, Kurt was afraid of hurting his already damaged boyfriend.

"I love you my precious angel," Kurt whispered into Blaine's ear. It was something that Kurt needed to tell him, regardless of whether this really was a dream or not. _Please, this cannot be real. Please, just let Blaine be all right._ As his thoughts continued to churn in his head, Kurt's eyelids became heavy. Apparently just waiting for his eyes to drift close, a restless sleep took him under.

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><p>Blood was splattering the otherwise white walls and tiles. Lying in the middle of the floor in a pool of crimson liquid was Blaine. He was crumpled in a pile, whimpering in pain. No matter how hard Kurt tried to talk, no words would come out. All he could do was watch helplessly as Blaine writhed and contorted in pain beneath his feet. Internally, Kurt was screaming at the top of his lungs. <em>BLAINE! BLAINE! WHAT HAPPENED, BLAINE? WHO DID THIS TO YOU? <em>Frantically, Kurt waved his arms trying to get Blaine's attention. That was when he got a good look at his arms. Kurt gaped at his crimson stained hands in horror.

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><p>Blaine's black curls muffled his scream as the two of them jolted awake.<p>

They were in Kurt's room. They were safe in Kurt's bed. Blaine was safe in Kurt's arms.

Except for the fact that there were specks of dried blood crusted to his skin and discolorations of a shadowy blue on his arms that indicated the formation of bruises.

Everything that happened that morning came crashing back to him in a second, and Kurt suddenly felt his lungs closing up._ Oh, God. It's real, isn't it? _Kurt still couldn't get air into his lungs, yet now, in addition, he could feel his hands trembling. _Everything that happened last night was real, no matter how much it may seem or I may hope that it was just a dream. _At this thought, Kurt could feel his stomach turn. Worried round eyes were staring up at Kurt's own, triggering something in his thoughts. As his mind caught up with his surroundings and what happened last night, Kurt drew Blaine closer to him. _I have to protect him._ Wrapping his arms tighter around Blaine's waist, Kurt didn't dare let go for fear that if he did, the boy in front of him would crumple like in his nightmare.

In the light of day, Kurt could clearly see the injuries. Purple bruises were dappled across Blaine's bare arms, and Kurt was sure that they continued under his t-shirt. Scrapes trailed across his skin, marring his olive tone. Scabs were starting to form on Blaine's face, and the blood had all dried. _Damn it, why didn't I think about this before? Who the hell did this to him?_ _I need to know what happened_, Kurt realized for the first time. Shaking himself, he came to some fraction of an understanding. _No matter how scared I am, Blaine must be even more terrified._ So, Kurt braced himself for the answer. Trying to imagine that this was all just a dream, Kurt blocked out the worries of forming his words into the right sentences. _If this is a dream, then it won't matter what I say. I just need to know._

"You may not want to talk about it," Kurt ventured, "but I really need to know what happened last night." Holding his breath as Blaine averted his eyes, Kurt wanted to learn the truth. He still hoped, though, that Blaine would tell him that nothing was wrong. Kurt wanted Blaine to explain some elaborate story that had something to do with random clumsiness, and ended in Blaine somehow accidentally getting hurt. _But that's not going to happen. There is so much more to it than that. Really, that's not what I want to hear, though, I need the truth._ Weaving his fingers through Blaine's, Kurt gave his hand a squeeze of comfort. "Please," Kurt softened his voice, almost pleading. "I just need to know." _No matter what his answer, I must stay strong. Even if I am dreaming right now, I need to prove that if Blaine ever needs anything from me, I will be there._

Turning his attention back to the fragile boy sitting beside him, Kurt could see the tension in his jaw. As Blaine shifted nervously, Kurt caught a glimpse of his face. There was something oddly stony about it, with little resemblance to the expression that he had seen the night before. That terrified face from two o'clock was no longer there, and in its place was something that scared Kurt even more. It was an emptiness that somehow made Kurt feel like everything was more real. Still, though, Kurt tried to recompose himself as he held on to the fantasy of this just being a dream, because his brain still didn't completely comprehend this nightmare as reality yet.

Blaine's quavering voice refocused Kurt back to the present, whether it was a dreamland or reality. Softly and slowly, Blaine spoke words that Kurt never imagined he would ever utter. "When I was a little boy, my father used to be my role model. I hoped that I could be just like him when I grew up. But when I was eight, he became the person I least wanted to resemble, in any kind of way." The words quickly spilling from Blaine's mouth had a somewhat rehearsed tone to them, as if he had practiced in his mind a million different ways to say them. "It had been a bad day at work for him, I guess. By the time he came home, his breath was reeking of whisky and it was after nine o'clock. He didn't actually take it out on me, at first, he started with my mother. That wasn't the only time that happened, it was only the beginning, but that was the night that changed my mind. After that, every time that something wasn't perfect, we were the ones to blame."

Kurt didn't want to think about what those words meant, but he wasn't in control of his mind in its current state. Sharply, Kurt took in a breath. _Of all of the ideas that crossed my mind, I didn't…oh, God...that means that Blaine has been hiding this from me for so long._

Blaine was rushing to get his words out now, and Kurt had to struggle to refocus his thoughts. As the injured boy spoke, there was a tense yet fragile coldness in his voice. "Yesterday, when I came home, my mom was gone. Clothes were strewn all over my parents' bedroom. She had packed, taken the car, and left. I was all alone." Avoiding looking at Kurt was the only way that Blaine had to keep himself from breaking down, yet even that could only last for so long.

"When my dad came home, he was furious." Softly rubbing the small of Blaine's back, Kurt could feel his boyfriend trembling beneath his fingertips. "Usually, he is careful to not do anything that would be too noticeable, but this time he didn't even care." Falling silent, Blaine cut off suddenly, swiping at a tear that had escaped down his cheek. _There's something else that Blaine wants to say_, Kurt knew, _but what is it?_ He didn't push Blaine to keep talking. _He's already said so much_. Trying to hide the hiccup of a sob that escaped his lips, Blaine attempted to pull away. Of course, Kurt wasn't going to let that happen.

Gently enveloping Blaine in his slender arms, Kurt held the boy's head to his chest. Wrenching sobs tore through Blaine's chest as he finally let go of his façade, even if it was just for a little while. Tears soaked Kurt's shirt, but he barely noticed anything other than his boyfriend. _It's my turn to take care of him_, Kurt thought.

As the shuddering underneath Kurt's hands lessened, Blaine let out a small whimper that reminded him of how real everything was. Still, though, it was as if he was looking at the scene from outside of his body; he couldn't process what he had learned, and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to. _Just give me a little bit longer, _Kurt pleaded with something inside of himself. _Just let me act like this isn't something that is going to turn my life upside down. I know that Blaine needs for me to listen to the truth and I can't pretend that this is just a dream. This is real. His pain, his memories, they're all real. I just need to be here to keep all of the pieces from falling apart even more. All I have to do is just keep Blaine steady in this unreal nightmare. _Surprisingly enough, Kurt realized that his mind was growing clearer, as if his subconscious was slacking up on the onslaught of thoughts that was previously assaulting him.

Lifting his head from Kurt's chest, Blaine gave Kurt an attempted smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. It seemed as if the damaged boy was trying, just like Kurt was, to just pretend again, and Kurt was just letting him. _Maybe it'll be okay for just a little bit longer, but I know that we can't keep just faking our way through every day, hoping that the good might somehow cancel out the bad._ In his arms, Kurt could feel the boy closing himself off again, trying to be the same person he always had been. He was trying to smile even through all of the crap that had happened the previous night. _Why does he think he has to be so perfect and strong for me? _

Looking again at Blaine's bloodstained face and shirt almost broke Kurt's heart. _Something has to be done about this. First of all, Blaine needs to be cleaned up._ Pulling Blaine to his feet, Kurt let him to the bathroom. On the way, he slowly slipped back into who he was on a daily basis, pushing everything to the back of his mind. Painted an aqua blue, the bathroom had a soft edge to it. Not surprisingly, everything was organized perfectly. The white granite countertop was almost pristine except for a small makeup bag.

Opening the closet, Kurt took out a white washcloth that was bound to be trash by the end of its use. Kurt motioned for Blaine to sit on the closed toilet seat as he ran the water over the towel. Brushing back Blaine's hair from his forehead, Kurt gently began cleaning the blood off of it. _God, this is harder than I thought._ The actual washing part wasn't difficult. Neither was the blood, thanks to Kurt's strange fascination with medical dramas. (In his defense, all of the doctors were young and cute too.) What really got him was how difficult it was to act like this was normal, as if he had to clean up wounds every other day.

Kurt's heart strained as he discovered yet another split on Blaine's brow. Pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's temple, he thought, _I wish a kiss would make it all better. I wish I could heal you. But there is just so much that I can't fix._ Brushing the washcloth over Blaine's lips, Kurt was surprised when his boyfriend flinched away, hand flying to his mouth.

"I'm so, so sorry," Kurt rushed to apologize. He was trying so hard not to put Blaine in any more pain. "Please let me see." Delicately, Kurt took Blaine's hand in his own and drew it away from his face. The split lip was trickling blood down his recently cleaned chin. Oh so carefully, Kurt brought his lips into contact with Blaine's. It wasn't a kiss, per say, it was much more subtle and over to quickly. As Kurt leaned backwards, he still tasted the salty sting of blood as he ran his tongue over his own, perfect lips. Bringing the washcloth back to dab at Blaine's mouth, Kurt mumbled another apology.

Over Blaine jaw and down his lithe neck, Kurt sponged up the fresh rivulet of blood, trying not to think about what he was really doing. When he reached the neck of Blaine's t-shirt, he realized just how much that shirt needed to be changed. _Yesterday was a bad day to wear white_.

"Come on, let's get you changed out of that unfashionable mess," Kurt said, trying to get a smile out of Blaine. It didn't work. All he got was a very puzzled look, like Blaine thought he was insane. _Well, at least he doesn't look like the victim that just stepped out of a horror movie anymore, _Kurt attempted to add humor to his thoughts, yet they still came off forced. It still was painful to see Blaine shutting himself down again, blocking out those feelings and just pretending to still be the person Kurt always thought he was.

"I don't have any clothes to…." Suddenly catching on, Blaine looked like he had just practically choked on the air. "Wait, do you expect me to wear one of _your_ outfits." _There's the smile I was looking for._ If Kurt was being honest with himself, he would know that the expression barely reached the corners of the other boy's mouth, and that just a little smile was not nearly proof that he was all right. Still, Kurt was willing to play along, even if he knew that it would be limited.

With a stage gasp, Kurt scoffed in a feigned tone, "Well, I'm absolutely shocked that you don't think I would have the basics." Tugging Blaine back into his room, Kurt let his mind create a different scenario for why his boyfriend was going to wear some of his clothes. "Just promise me you won't laugh," Kurt said, standing guard in front of his closet door. Wickedly, Blaine's lips curled, but he gave a nod of consent. With a flourish, Kurt let Blaine into what he would call his favorite place in his house.

First things first, it could not be called a closet. It was a full-blown room, absolutely bursting with eye-popping clothes. The walls were practically made out of rows of hanging garments. At the end of the long room, there was a mirror so large that it reached to the ceiling and it sides disappeared into the clothes on either side. Centered in the room was a hot pink sofa. A freaking_ sofa_, for Christ's sake.

Observing the bewildered look on Blaine's face, Kurt led Blaine to the end of one row of clothes. Still, though, he was As Kurt placed his hand on his sparkling Lady Gaga outfit, he felt Blaine jerk his hand free and take a step back. _He looks like he's about to sprint out of here._

"Hold up a second," Kurt's voice was laughing, yet it felt strange in his current situation. "Do you really think I would have you wear that?" Sheepishly, Blaine avoided Kurt's eyes, seeming much more reassured, though still stiff and robotic. It was obvious that Blaine was struggling to keep thought from last night at bay almost as much as Kurt was, if not more. "Now come here. I don't want to pick out clothes for you like I'm your mother or something." _Actually, it would be extremely fun to dress you up,_ he added silently in another endeavor to help him keep the tight smile on his lips.

Pushing the sparkling outfit out of the way, Kurt revealed a much more demure dresser. "This is where I keep all of my basics. Since they don't wrinkle easily, it's all right that they are not hanging up. Anyways, I ran out of space and I still had to hang some things that just could not be put in a dresser." Blaine seemed hesitant of touching anything for fear that he would mess something up. Warily, Blaine opened a drawer and gave a sigh of relief at the contents. "I'll just go outside while you change," Kurt offered, and he quickly moved to the door, shutting it behind him when he left the room.

As he sat in his bedroom, Kurt began to grow short of breath again. Without anything to hold his attention, his thoughts were growing again, and it was as if they were suffocating him. _I need to tell someone else…I need to tell my dad!_ Somehow, in the eventfulness of his morning, he had forgotten that his father was the one that let Blaine in that morning. _We can't pretend that none of this happened. It's completely unfair to everyone, especially Blaine._ Yet, Kurt found himself just growing numb instead of really confronting his thought. _Despite anything else, the next thing I need to do is talk to my dad,_ Kurt told himself as Blaine opened the door.

Blaine was wearing black skinny jeans, the cuffs rolled up because the length clearly wasn't quite right for him. A purple heathered V-neck tee was plenty formfitting as well, and he had opted for a grey leather jacket to cover the bruising on his arms. _Bruises that aren't going to disappear, no matter how much either of us ignores the fact that they exist. _ Hooked around the neck of his t-shirt was a pair of neon pink Wayfarer sunglasses, which caused a flush crawl across Kurt's cheeks. One time, when they were at Blaine's house, Kurt had snagged a pair of Blaine's sunglasses from his set of neon shades. Kurt had hoped that he would never notice, but now it was obvious that the other boy clearly had.

"Well, have I got your heart racing in my skintight jeans yet," Blaine teased weakly, and Kurt could see right through the light humor his boyfriend was trying to portray. In his mind, Kurt answered, _I will sure be dreaming about you tonight. I just hope it isn't I nightmare, like last night._ Slipping his hand into Blaine's, Kurt understood that he would have to stop pretending that everything was just as usual

"Are you ready to go downstairs now? We really need to talk to my dad." As Blaine's face fell, Kurt gave his hand a small squeeze. Truthfully, Kurt was petrified of explaining to his father, but Burt needed to know. "It's going to be okay. I won't let it be any other way." Saying the words, Kurt entirely believed that he would keep fighting for Blaine, but somehow he doubted that everything was okay. Just one glace into Blaine's eyes was enough to validate just how broken he was.

Hesitantly, Blaine followed Kurt's lead down the stairs. When they entered the kitchen, Burt Hummel was sitting at the table, hands folded in front of him. He didn't look angry. In fact, he looked rather concerned with his eyebrows knitted together in a kind of frown.

Letting the boys take their seats before talking, Kurt's dad observed their entwined hands. Under his eyes were dark circles, indicating his lack of sleep the night before. In a much softer tone than expected, he said, "Just tell me." Shooting a frantic and pleading look in Kurt's direction, Blaine was discernibly apprehensive. _I'm not sure if Blaine can manage trying to tell someone else's father about… _With that, Kurt made the decision that it would be to tell his own father, yet he struggled to figure out how to explain. Unsure of what to say, Kurt's mind was spinning. It was Blaine's story, so he didn't want to say something that Blaine didn't want to share.

Stumbling over his words, Kurt was only able to get out a few words before trailing off. "Blaine's father…" He didn't know how to finish his sentence, but that was all Burt needed to hear. Closing his eyes, Kurt's dad took a deep, shaking breath. It was as if he was trying to compose himself before he opened his eyes again. Though he still had a sadness about him, Burt's jaw was now set, and it was easy to see the paternal anger in his expression.

With a paced and abnormally steady tone, Burt asked, "Now, what are you planning to do?" When the two boys only wore confused expressions on their faces, Burt clarified with a stern tone, "If you think I'm going to let you go back there, you are sadly mistaken." Agreeing with his father, Kurt nodded. _But where else does Blaine have to go,_ he contemplated. Suddenly, he had an idea, but he wasn't sure if his father would buy it.

"Can…can Blaine stay… here?" Kurt ventured. Wincing, he half expected his dad to lose his steady composure and immediately respond with a harsh refusal. When Kurt risked a glance at his dad, though, Burt appeared to be actually contemplating the idea.

On the other hand, Blaine was staring a Kurt as if he was absolutely senseless to offer up the possibility. "No way. I could never do that. It would be way too much of a hassle, and I have all of my things at my house anyway," he protested adamantly. Opening his mouth, he was about to continue, but Burt cut him off.

"Yes."

The boys stared in awe at Kurt's father. _What? Seriously_, Kurt wondered, _what has gotten into my father? _Then, the severity of Blaine situation hit him hard in the stomach again, knocking the questions from his mind.

"But," Burt added, pointedly looking at Blaine, "I'll be keeping a close eye on you." _This may be a lot more awkward than I originally imagined,_ Kurt realized. _Blaine… living in my house… with my dad… and Finn… sleeping here every night… oh God._ Sure that his face was beet red, Kurt felt like his head was about to explode. _How am I even thinking about that with everything that happened last night? That should be the least of my worries._

"Now, Blaine," Burt interrupted Kurt's spiraling thoughts. "You said that you have all of your possessions still at your house. You'll be needing to go back to get some of your clothes, if I'm not mistaken. Do you know when there be a time that we could drive over?" Eying the clothes he was wearing, Burt had a look of disapproval. He could tell that they weren't Blaine's. Taking control of the situation, Burt was the one that was actually considering Blaine's mandatory needs. _I'm forever grateful to have a father like this, _Kurt suddenly realized. _What would I do without him? What would I do if he were like Blaine's… No! _ Stopping his thought from traveling down that dark path, Kurt.

Biting his lip, Blaine thought for a minute. Fear was transparent in his expression, despite how steady Blaine endeavored to speak his words. "_He _works on Saturdays, so I think might be able to get some of my things right now?" It wasn't exactly a question, but Blaine was trying to do right by Kurt's father. Kurt, though, felt the same fear that he knew was in his boyfriend's mind at the prospect of returning to the house where so many things had happened. _Someone should go with him. I don't want to send him back there all alone. What if his father is actually still there? What if something even worse happens when he goes back? What if…_

As Kurt opened his mouth about offer to go, Blaine rushed to say, "Please, can I go alone?" The expression on his face was one of worry, but it was clear that he wasn't going to back down from his assertion of returning to that house unaccompanied.

"Just be careful, alright?" Clearly, Kurt's father was beginning to worry if he was doing the right thing by sending Blaine back to his house. Kurt understood, though, when his father did not try to convince him to let them come. Not only did he know that neither of them would be able to alter that stubborn boy's decision to go alone, but also it was clear that Burt would never allow Kurt to go into that house now that he knew how dangerous it could be. It was difficult enough letting the boy who lived there go back, and Kurt understood how trying it would be to allow your own son to possibly walk into danger along with his boyfriend. Handing a pair of car keys to Blaine, Burt led him to the door.

If not for his father, Kurt would have given Blaine a kiss to comfort them both. Instead, he just attempted to smile in encouragement and unsuccessfully dispel the fears from his thoughts. As Burt closed the door on Blaine, Kurt's nerves began to kick in. Not only was he worried for his boyfriend, but also he had a hunch as to why his dad wanted to be alone with him.

Kurt really didn't want to have _that_ talk with his father, but he had no other choice right now.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**I hope you enjoyed it and please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: **

**So, I would like to thank any of you who have this story as a favorite or an alert. It is amazing for people to actually read and like my writing. **

**This characters have taken over this story, and it is now going in a direction that I did not even imagine.**

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><p>The light of day looked unnatural to Blaine as the door closed behind him. Because his insides were dark and writhing, he had almost expected that it would still be dark outside. Everything felt like he was in a sort of fog, his brain not fully comprehending the new situation that he had been thrown into. Squinting into the brightness, Blaine stopped in his tracks, heart jolting.<p>

Seeing one of his father's cars in the Hummel's driveway practically gave him a heart attack before he vaguely remembered that he had grabbed the keys and drove over here at 2 AM. With a sigh of relief, Blaine gave a nervous laugh that had nothing to do with cheerfulness. _I can't believe I though my father would actually be here. I guess I'm just a little jumpy still,_ he considered.

He took another look at his father's car, trying to figure out if he should drive the car that Burt Hummel had handed him the keys for. The twisting of his stomach told him that he really didn't want to be in his father's car. _I know that I'm going to have to go back into my house soon… but I just want to escape him. At least for a little bit longer._

Heading towards the car he knew as Mr. Hummel's, Blaine couldn't suppress his thoughts.

Last night had practically turned his whole world upside down, but as Blaine rode down the street, he realized that the rest of the world was still continuing like normal. Children were playing hockey in the street, and parents were raking leaves. _It's so normal and perfect. Why couldn't I have just kept up that facade for longer?_ Blaine knew he shouldn't be thinking these things. _Coming to Kurt was the best thing to do. _Even that, though, wasn't really a decision that he made. It was more of just his subconscious keeping him safe. If it had been up to Blaine, he would have tried to just keep pretending. But when he was terrified and didn't know what to do, his subconscious had probably saved him. It didn't just save him from his father; it saved him from himself too.

Already reaching his neighborhood, Blaine's heart sped even faster. For the first time, he cursed just how closely he and Kurt lived. It was generally rather helpful, but now he wished for a much further away house.

On his street, he slowed the car to a crawl. Blaine knew that his father should be at work, but he just wanted to be careful. Holding his breath, he squinted into the distance at his house. The driveway was empty. Though that was what should be expected, Blaine still felt a sense of relief.

As he got out of the car and walked up to the front door, his legs were moving of their own accord. It went against everything that he was feeling and thinking to return to his house. _It's not my home,_ he realized as he forced his feet to keep moving._ There's nothing left for me here, anyway._

Key clicking in the lock, Blaine hesitated to open the door. Nausea was twisting in his stomach at the prospect of going back into that house with so many bad memories in it. _Just one night of being away, and I never want to return._

Nothing had changed, yet everything was different.

_I was finally able to say something to Kurt about… _Almost afraid to think it, Blaine tried to block out his thoughts. Of course, it was impossible. _If I had just told him that…well, I guess I still could… No! _Picturing Kurt's terrified look that morning when he had awoken from his nightmare made Blaine's decision. _For now, at least, I don't think that Kurt could handle it. He is very delicate after all. Even though he's been through so much in his life, he's still just a child._

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><p>"I am not a child anymore!" Kurt shouted at his father, jumping to his feet. "I can't believe you don't trust that I am responsible and able to handle this!" As he became more worked up, his voice raised a few octaves. <em>No, it was not fair! He knows better than anyone just what I have gone through! Why can't he understand that this is almost more important than any of that!<em>

Even though Burt's expression was empathetic, his raising discomfort was obvious. "That's not what I meant," he said, attempting to stay patient "What I was trying to say was that you and Blaine haven't exactly been in a relationship for very long and this is a very serious subject."

"You think I don't know just how serious this is? Earlier this morning I saw my boyfriend walk into my room bloody and beaten! I was the one to clean him up and take care of him!" _It is so unreal to say that, but it's true. _Feeling his throat closing up, Kurt struggled to keep getting his words out.

"Just…just let me help him…let him stay…" Kurt's voice dropped to a whisper._ Damn it! I have to show my dad that I can handle all of this. I'm not supposed to cry!_ Blinking his eyes slowly, he suppressed his coming tears.

"Of course I'm saying that Blaine can stay!" Looking just a little bit overwhelmed, Kurt's father tried to backtrack what he was saying. "It's just that with all of this causing Blaine to move in, I don't want your relationship to be…um…rushed."

_Oh my God! This is so awkward!_ If Burt's face was getting flushed, Kurt was sure his own face was red as a beet. Attempting to cover his face with his hands, Kurt tried to keep his mind out of the practically nonexistent gutter. _I don't even know very much about… _

With a more serious expression, Burt continued, "You, my son, are more important to me than anything else. Not that I don't trust you, but I _will_ be keeping a close eye on you." _That is most definitely a threat_, Kurt thought apprehensively. "I know that you and Blaine are…together now, but this is _my_ house. Nothing inappropriate is going to happen in my house!"

"DAD! I can't believe you…I don't even…oh my God…Dad…" Kurt was so flustered he couldn't finish a single sentence he was trying to get out. Though he was trying to convince his father contrary, Kurt couldn't help but imagine his father finding him and Blaine making out. Practically squealing with nervous embarrassment, he covered his mouth even tighter. _This conversation could not get any more uncomfortable._

That was until the Carole opened the front door to let his boyfriend back in.

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><p>Coming back to the Hummel's house was stranger than Blaine thought if would be. <em>Even though I've been here so many times before, it seems so different now.<em> From outside he could see the lights coming from almost every room, inviting him in. _Inviting me home_, he reminded himself.

Everything just felt so unreal. Home was a place that Blaine had been missing since he was a little boy. His house just never felt like where he belonged. Always fearful, always dreading, always waiting, he didn't feel safe there. When he had gone to Dalton, it was most definitely an improvement. It was as if he had a hundred brothers, and the fact that they all cared for him so much was something that he could hardly fathom.

But it still hadn't been home. He couldn't have the care his mother used to give him, or the paternal affection he desired from his father. Brothers were wonderful in their own ways, but he didn't have a family there. Hell, Blaine didn't even have a family before that either. Mr. Anderson did not count as a father. Though his mother loved him, she couldn't stop the things that were done to herself or her son. Secretly, Blaine had even hoped that he would be an older brother at one point. He had always loved little kids, and he had a soft spot for little girls in particular. They just seemed so fragile that he wanted to take care of them. He just wanted to make something turn out right.

In Blaine's household, though, that never happened. Mr. Anderson decided that he hated children, and he took special care to make sure that he never created another horrible abomination like that of his failure of a son.

Shaking these memories from his mind, Blaine attempted to think more optimistically. _I finally get to come home._ He gave a small smile of anticipation. _This is the family that I have always been wanting; a father to care for me no matter who I am, a mother to bake me cookies for no reason at all, and a brother like Finn to play video games and sports with. Last but not least, I am loved and I have someone to love in return._

Love had become Blaine's favorite word. He was still afraid to use it, though, because he knew how much those three words meant to Kurt. It wasn't that Blaine didn't mean them, but it was that he didn't want to rush them. This was both of the boys' first significant relationship, and Blaine just didn't want to mess anything up.

Figuring that it was probably time to go inside, Blaine got out of the car and headed up to the front door. Suddenly, a question sprang to his mind. _Should I knock or just walk in?_ It was a silly worry, but Blaine didn't want to be rude by letting himself into the Hummel's house.

Saving him the awkwardness of making this decision, Carole opened the door to let Blaine inside. She gave him a sad smile that Blaine attempted to return, but it was more likely a grimace. _Of course Carole would have to know, too. After all, I am going to be living in their house._

"Welcome home Blaine." He didn't know how Carole always knew exactly what he needed to hear, and this only made Blaine like Carole even more than he already did. Not only did she make Kurt cheerful, but she also truly cared for him. She was the most openhearted when Kurt had first introduced Blaine to the Hummel-Hudson family. From then, Carole had grown to become a second mother to him.

Ushering Blaine into the kitchen, Carole said loud enough for Burt and Kurt to hear, "I was just coming downstairs. There were some loud noises that seem to have woken me up." Looking pointedly at her husband, she raised her eyebrows.

_Well, this is really uncomfortable._ Blaine remembered that before he had left that morning it had been obvious that Mr. Hummel had really wanted to have a little talk with his son. _I guess they had a chance to talk,_ Blaine presumed by the tension in the air.

"These are your things, I assume," Kurt's father said tersely, gesturing to the duffel bag that Blaine was carrying. Looking absolutely horrified, Kurt drew in a gasp of air. Practically laughing, Blaine could guess what was going through his boyfriend's mind. _Duffel bag. Singular. As in, all of my clothes are shoved in a tiny little bag, becoming wrinkled and mangled._

Floundering with his words, Kurt managed, "Y-your clothes… d-duffel bag… really everything?" Continuing to stutter, he looked reproachful when Blaine gave him a sheepish grin. _I'm probably going to get a whole lesson on how to properly take care of my clothes._ It seemed pretty funny now, but Blaine had truthfully meant to pack more of his possessions in a neater way. The only thing that had stopped him was the fact that he was terrified to stay in his house any longer and had just bolted with whatever he already packed. _Anyways,_ _I can always borrow some of Kurt's things. _Grinning even wider, he thought, _It was a lot of fun shopping in his closet after all._

"You can bring your bag up to the spare room," Burt let him know. "That's where you will be staying." Snatching the duffel from Blaine's hands, Kurt looked like he didn't want to let the clothes be damaged anymore.

Before Blaine had a chance to follow Kurt up to his new room, Burt stopped him. Lightly placing a hand on Blaine's shoulder, Kurt's father smiled warmly. Giving him an awkward pat on his back, Burt let Blaine know that he was all right with him being there. _Does this count as his blessing,_ Blaine wondered strangely.

Bounding up the stairs, Blaine hurried to catch up with Kurt. As he rounded the corner to his room, another door opened. Finn was rubbing his eyes as he walked out of his room, running strait into Blaine.

"Ung…sorry Kurt," he said, eyes still closed. "Whoa, dude!" Caught by surprise, Finn practically jumped back when he realized that it was Blaine who he bumped into. "What are you doing here?" _Obviously, he knows nothing of what happened last night. But what should I tell him?_ Torn between flat out lying or telling Finn the truth, Blaine just stood there silently.

"Oh, sorry, that was a dumb question." It hadn't really been a stupid question, but Blaine wasn't going to correct Finn. "You're just here to see Kurt." Trudging away, Finn headed towards the kitchen to get some much needed coffee.

_Well, I guess Finn may be getting quite a shock today. Hopefully he won't find it too weird. He will be living with two gay boys now,_ Blaine considered. Blaine didn't want the football team to be any harsher to Finn than they already were. If he could keep it this way, Blaine hoped that no one else at McKinley would find out. He hated to imagine what they would do to Kurt. Truthfully, he couldn't imagine going back to a school where someone knew his story, but a part of him realized that almost no one would know his story. That little piece of him though of how, when he was at school, he could just pretend to be the person he always had before.

Again, making his way to his room, Blaine found Kurt sitting on the bed. Coming up to his boyfriend silently, Blaine joined him. Kurt jolted, surprised by this quiet approach. In an attempt to hide his stray tears from Blaine, Kurt rubbed furiously at his cheeks.

Giving up on that effort, Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine. _He loves me,_ Blaine knew even though no words were shared. Nothing needed to be said. They understood exactly what the other was thinking. _Even though Kurt always feels like the weak one, he has proven to be exactly the opposite. Right now, I'm the one who needs this comforting._ Smiling into Kurt's shoulder, Blaine knew that this was the boy that he loved.

"It can only get better from here," Kurt hoped with all his might.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**Thank you for reading! Please review to let me know what you thought!**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:**

**I am so sorry to those 28 (!) people who subscribed to story alert for not updating at all recently. I have officially given up on finishing my NaNoWriMo (National November Writing Month) novel during the month of November so I will probably be updating this story about once a week. **

**Enough of my ramblings, go do what you are here for! Enjoy the story!**

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><p>A banging sounded from downstairs and Blaine jolted up in his bed. Heart pounding, he thought, <em>Damn it, my dad's home! What do I do?<em> Instantly, he snapped his eyes wide open. Instead of the room he expected to see, he looked at the blank walls of a foreign house. But then he remembered. This was the Hummel's house. He was staying at Kurt's house. He was safe.

The pressure that had been building up within his chest was dissipating, but Blaine was still curious of what the noise he heard was. With a quick glace towards the digital clock sitting on the nightstand by his bed, Blaine discovered that it was 5:30 in the morning. _Oh yeah,_ he remembered. _It's Monday morning so there's school. Kurt is probably just getting ready. I'm sure that his rigorous skin rituals and elaborate outfits take plenty of time in the morning._

Rubbing the sleep out of his crusted over eyes, Blaine rose from the bed. His feet dragged across the fuzzy carpet as he trudged downstairs in the dark. _Personally,_ _I believe that waking up this early is not right in any way. _Blaine was obviously not a morning person, and his internal complaining continued as he made his way down the hallway. _Getting up before the sun even rises was the most idiotic idea that anyone could have ever imagined._ In his mind, Blaine was keeping his thoughts light. There was way to much that he could be worrying about, but instead, he decided that he could just try to pretend that this was another normal morning. _Even if it is far from that._

Finally reaching the kitchen, Blaine saw Kurt leaning over the stove, cooking something. Surprisingly, he was wearing only a ribbed tank top and blue plaid pajama pants. His heart began so speed up as he noticed the way that the tight grey fabric of Kurt's shirt clung to his sides and how the muscles in his lean arms moved as his arms worked over whatever he was making. Kurt's pants were slung low on his hips, leaving a small gap of pale skin peeking out from between his waistband and the hem of his tank top.

Silently padding up behind Kurt, Blaine brought his arms around the other boy's waist. Startling, Kurt jumped and tried to spin around. The minute he saw that it was Blaine, his tension melted away. His sparkling blue eyes smiled at Blaine as he relaxed into the arms of his boyfriend. Resting his chin on Kurt's shoulder, Blaine brought his face within inches of the other boy. Inhaling deeply, he caught a whiff of the eggs that Kurt was cooking with tomato and basil, yet the smell that really caught his attention was the hint of vanilla from Kurt's tender neck.

Pressing his lips softly against the hollow underneath the corner of Kurt's jaw, Blaine whispered into his skin. "You have got to stop being so damn _irresistible_. How am I supposed to survive here with both you and your father when all I want to do is kiss you?" Tracing his lips up Kurt's jaw, Blaine's breathing grew shallower. As he slid his hands down Kurt's sides he could feel his boyfriend's chest rising and falling rapidly. It seemed as if Kurt just couldn't stand it any longer. As Blaine's mouth drew closer to his own, Kurt twisted his head slightly, capturing it in a deep kiss. With a hungry intensity, Blaine's lips moved to match Kurt's. Feeling Kurt press their bodies closer just made Blaine want more. When he was with Kurt he could never get enough, and now that he had a taste of this heaven he was never going to let it go.

Extremely audibly, someone cleared his throat from the other side of the kitchen. Leaping away from each other, they both turned to see Finn standing in the doorway. Through the tired haze that was clear on his face, it was also obvious just how much he wanted to shove Blaine away from his brother. _Seriously,_ Blaine thought with an exasperated sigh, _how am I going to be able to live in this house without kissing Kurt or getting clobbered for it?_

Out of the corner of his eye, Blaine could tell that Kurt's cheeks were burning with color. Biting his bottom lip, Blaine slid his way over to the table. Hesitantly, he pulled out a chair next to the seat Finn had just slumped into. _At least this way he won't be glaring across the table at me._

"Shit!" Kurt exclaimed as he finally remembered that he had been in the middle of cooking before Blaine distracted him. Smoke was now rising from the frying pan and the sizzling was growing louder. Snatching it swiftly from the burner, Kurt flipped its charred contents onto a plate. Eyes fixed in a glare, Kurt took pointed, heavy steps over to the table. Stopping by Finn's seat, Kurt plopped down the plate with a clatter. Blaine attempted to stifle the laughter that was bubbling in his chest as he watched Finn's eyebrows shoot up. On the plate in front of him was a pile of scorched brown blobs that appeared to have previously been an omelet.

Kurt turned towards Blaine with an overly cheerful grin, yet it still wasn't the way the he used to look at him. "Now, how would you like your eggs? Do you want them scrambled, fried, or would you like an omelet like I had originally been making?" Again, his eyes were shooting daggers at Finn, but Blaine found this a little bit undeserved. _To be fair,_ he considered, _it was my fault that he got so distracted from cooking. Not that I regret it or anything._ The corner of his mouth turned upwards into a lopsided smile, and Blaine wondered to himself how he could just let himself slip back into his slightly feigned personality from before Kurt knew the truth.

"Would you mind making another omelet? The first one smelled very good," Blaine complimented. "Well, at least until it started to burn…" Blaine fully expected it when Kurt's hand hit into the back of his head with a gentle smack, yet he still flinched with theatrical surprise. Tilting his gel free mop of curls backwards, Blaine watched as Kurt's lips curled into a small giggle.

A groan escaped from Finn. "Can you guys please, please try not to do that when I'm here?" He was obviously pouting as he continued, "I truly am trying to eat right now, and it's difficult enough as it is." With a mound of brown on top, the fork in Finn's hand was hovering in front of him mouth. He looked as if he was contemplating the possibility of food poisoning and weighing those chances with his level of hunger. The growling from his stomach decided for him and he hesitantly took a bite, twisted his face into an unpleasant expression, and finally swallowed, the sound of it rather perceptible. Grudgingly, Finn repeated the motion, his face growing increasingly sour, yet his stomach still begging for more.

As Kurt turned away to make a much more adequate omelet, it was obvious that he was satisfied with his work. _Though I do feel a little bit sorry for Finn,_ Blaine decided,_ I have to admit that I do enjoy this just a little bit more than I should._

Staring off at nothing, Blaine didn't mean to, but his thoughts reverted to a previous worry. _In just under an hour, I will have to go back to school. What if the kids there find out that I'm staying in the Hummel's house? _To his side, Blaine saw Finn shoveling in his so-called omelet. It looked as if he wasn't even chewing anymore; he was just swallowing so that he wouldn't have to taste what he was eating. _What would the boys on the football team do to Finn? _His thoughts were spiraling down into the depth of his anxiety. With an uneasy stomach, he began to dread going back to school. _What would happen to Kurt?_ If anything did happen to Kurt, Blaine wouldn't be able to deal with it. _It will be my fault if someone hurts Kurt because of I'm staying here. I know I can handle it if they blame me, but Kurt…_

Finn's voice broke the silence that had been growing in the room as he addressed Blaine. "So, I usually drive Kurt to school," he stated the obvious, yet Blaine could tell that there was something else he was trying to say. "I was wondering if you wanted to get a ride with us, too? There's just one thing; I kind of pick up Rachel every day." This caught Blaine's attention. If there was any one person _not_ to tell about Blaine staying in the Hudson-Hummel house, it was Rachel. It wasn't that she would bother them or anything; the fact was that if Rachel knew, the news would be common knowledge by the end of that day.

After the offer that Finn had given him Blaine did not want to offend him. Not knowing exactly what to say, he opened his mouth but no sound came out. In his mind, he was trying to figure out how he could still accept the ride without Rachel finding out any unnecessary information.

Chiming in from across the kitchen, Kurt suggested, "I could just tell Rachel that you'll need a ride in the morning from now on? It may work for at least a little while?" At this, Blaine nodded his head vigorously. _Thank God I have a boyfriend like Kurt. I seriously don't know what I would have done without him these last few days._

* * *

><p>The final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Releasing a long sigh of relief, Blaine relaxed the tension out of his shoulders. <em>One day down without any real problems. No one found out about my new housing arrangements and I neither Kurt nor I got a single slushy facial today!<em> It wasn't exactly that all of his troubles had disappeared. Truthfully, he had just stuffed everything deep down to keep pretending. Maybe, if everyone else thought he was just fine, he would really be fine inside too. Day by day, if he just kept persevering, it could happen. _I almost made it through one full day, all I have left is to go to Glee club!_

That reminded him; he had promised to meet Kurt outside of his classroom so that they could go to Glee together. Gathering up his notebooks and pens as quickly as he could Blaine meticulously organized them inside of his bag. The smallest books went all the way to the front and the scale continued to the other side where the hulking binders were organized. Pens and pencils went into the small outer pocket where his calculator and iPod were stashed away.

Once his bag was packed to his liking Blaine rushed out the door, wishing his teacher a good afternoon as he passed. The hallway was already emptying as the students all clumped in front of the doors where the buses picked them up. Speeding up, Blaine hurried around the corner to where Kurt's last class of the day let out. _I hope that he hasn't left already. It wasn't like I was exactly as hasty as I could have been._

Reaching the door to the Math room, Blaine peeked his head inside. A small smile played across his lips as he recognized a familiar figure hunched over a desk. Kurt's hair was ruffled in such a way that would cause him to freak out if he could see it. As Blaine realized this, Kurt ran his hand through his hair again and a stray sprig of hair stuck straight up. Attempting to stifle his laughter, Blaine accidentally let a snort escape.

Snapping his head up, Kurt's eyes rested upon Blaine for a moment before turning back to what appeared to be a test. With a few last taps on his calculator and one more scribbling motion of his hand, Kurt rose from his seat and handed his paper to the teacher. Returning his calculator and pencil to his leather Guess bag, he slung it over his shoulder and swiftly joined Blaine at the door.

Kurt moaned, "Oh my God, I think I just failed that test. Why did I choose to take Calculus BC this year?" Not meaning to, Blaine let out a faint laugh, receiving a glare of death from Kurt's icy blue eyes. "It's not funny! This is serious! If I don't get an A in this class it will drop my GPA below 4.0! How do you expect me to be accepted to NYADA if I'm not completely outstanding?"

Pressing his lips together tightly, Blaine tried not to crack a smile. "It will be just fine," he reassured Kurt. "Anyways, if you don't get in to NYADA you can just join me at NYU. Then we would have more time to spend together," Blaine teased. Kurt didn't find it very funny. Crossing his arms over his chest, Kurt turned his face away. Tugging at Kurt's arm, Blaine made enough room to slip his own hand through the nook of his elbow. "C'mon, baby," he spoke in a sugary tone, "You know I was just kidding around. There is absolutely no way that you are _not_ getting into NYADA." Blaine could see Kurt's cheek rise a little bit as his mouth quirked into a smile and he took it as forgiveness. _There, all better._

"Now, we really do need to get to Glee club before Mr. Schuester starts," Blaine proclaimed. "I can't wait to find out what this week's lesson is going to be. Mr. Schue sounded particularly enthusiastic when he reminded me of Glee club today in Spanish class." Picking up their pace, the boys feet matched each other's as the walked in unison. Slowly, Kurt let his arm slide down and he wrapped his gentle fingers through Blaine's. _These are the moments that take my breath away,_ Blaine thought as gave a soft squeeze back, reflecting the feeling in his heart.

In under a minute, the two of them were walking into the chorus room, hands still intertwined. Just as the took seats next to each other, Mr. Schuester took out his dry erase marker and scrawled a word "Diversity" across the white board.

"Um… Mr. Schue, I don't think our Glee club necessarily needs a lesson on this," Mercedes questioned. "Glee has someone from almost every clique, race, and religion. We basically _are_ diversity." Some of the other kids nodded in agreement with this statement.

"Thanks for pointing that out, but it's not exactly what I meant by the word," Mr. Schuester answered kindly. Continuing, he explained, "So, as artists we all have genres of music or certain bands that we prefer to sing the music of, right?" At the slightly annoyed looks that he was receiving from Puck and Rachel, Mr. Schue quickly backtracked. "I'm not saying that this is a bad thing, but this week I want you guys to step out of your comfort zone a little bit. Choose songs that you wouldn't necessarily sing, yet still express your feelings. What I am trying to do here is show you that even though you may not favor a specific band, the main essence of the music that is in your favorite genre is a common thread throughout all songs."

As Kurt's hand shot up in the air, Mr. Schue didn't even ask what he was thinking. "It's fine if you want to do a song originally by a girl just as long as the style of music is something that you don't generally sing." _Well,_ thought Blaine, _Mr. Schue is being pretty lenient today. _

"Actually, that wasn't what I was going to ask, but thank you for clearing that up for me," Kurt responded. "I kind of already have a song that fits your guidelines and I was wondering if I could sing it? It's even sung by a boy," he added. "Like you had said before, even though it's not something I would generally like I found that the lyrics were important to me." At Mr. Schuester's nod, Kurt rose from his chair and stood in the front of the room.

Throwing a glance Blaine's way, Kurt bit his bottom lip slightly. _Kurt doesn't usually get nervous before songs,_ Blaine considered. _Maybe he's just worried about _singing_ a song he isn't used to?_ As the music began to play Blaine strained to remember the tune, but the minute Kurt started singing he knew exactly what the song was.

_I know you've suffered_  
><em>But I don't want you to hide<em>  
><em>It's cold and loveless<em>  
><em>I won't let you be denied<em>

_Soothing_  
><em>I'll make you feel pure<em>  
><em>Trust me<em>  
><em>You can be sure<em>

_I want to reconcile the violence in your heart_  
><em>I want to recognize your beauty's not just a mask<em>  
><em>I want to exorcise the demons from your past<em>  
><em>I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart<em>

As Kurt swayed across the floor, his eyes were trained on Blaine. _He's singing this for me_, Blaine knew. Even though the tempo of the song wasn't necessarily romantic, Blaine could feel the emotion behind every word Kurt was singing. _Now I understand what Kurt was saying. How better could lyrics describe…this?_ Blaine couldn't think of the right word to describe everything that was going on at the moment, so he settled with "this".

_You trick your lovers_  
><em>That you're wicked and divine<em>  
><em>You may be a sinner<em>  
><em>But your innocence is mine<em>

_Please me_  
><em>Show me how it's done<em>  
><em>Tease me<em>  
><em>You are the one<em>

As the words melted on Kurt's tongue, Blaine could feel his heart aching. He understood the sadness in Kurt's ocean eyes and he heard the words that Kurt was singing to him. _Please, God, just let them be true_, he hoped with all his might.

_I want to reconcile the violence in your heart_  
><em>I want to recognize your beauty's not just a mask<em>  
><em>I want to exorcise the demons from your past<em>  
><em>I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart<em>

_Please me_  
><em>Show me how it's done<em>  
><em>Trust me<em>  
><em>You are the one<em>

_I want to reconcile the violence in your heart_  
><em>I want to recognize your beauty's not just a mask<em>  
><em>I want to exorcise the demons from your past<em>  
><em>I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart<em>

Coming to the end of the song, Kurt let his voice fade away gently. What Blaine wanted more than anything else was for everything Kurt was singing to be true. Yet he still couldn't believe it. _How can someone feel that way about me?_ _I'm too broken to repair._

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><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**In case you wanted to know, the song that Kurt sings is "Undisclosed Desires" by Muse. I just found the lyrics perfect for what I was trying to convey here.**

**Again, I want to thank those people who subscribed to this story! It makes me so happy to see that people want to read more of my writing. You know what also makes me happy? REVIEWS! Here are my little shout-outs to those of you who reviewed**

**xSlythStratasfaction: The whole time that I was writing that chapter I felt the same way. I'm sorry that it broke your heart (hopefully in a good way). I feel so bad for Blaine while I am writing this because it's so sad and I'm just thinking "Blaine! I just want you to be happy and make adorable Klainbows!"**

**boredandhomealone: I'm glad that you enjoyed it so far, and, um… yeah, this is going to be a rather emotional story. Like I said, I just wish Blaine was happy. Every time I try writing something pure Klaine happiness and fluff it turns into something sad and I just bang my head against my desk.**

**twice the rogue: I'm happy that you liked the beginning, hopefully you like it as it continues. **

**fightsilence: Again, just refer back to the previous things I have said about this being sad.**

**So, I hope you liked it. Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN:**

**So, I think I may have said this was going to be up here earlier, but it would be in your best interest to ignore anything I say about when I will post things. I never know when school is going to decide to attack me with a million essays.**

**This main idea of birthdays in this chapter was actually a topic that I thought I was going to write something happy about. I in no way expected this to come out of it.**

**Warnings for this chapter****: violence**

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><p>"I hope you have a good time," Kurt wished his father, Carole, and a rather groggy looking Finn well on their way out to church at nine o'clock in the morning. Receiving a scowl that was contorted by a stifled yawn from Finn, Kurt could feel himself smiling even larger. As he swung the door shut behind them, he whispered, "Thank God!"<p>

For the past hour and a half, Kurt had been attempting to shove his father and Carole out the door, and with them, they had dragged a resentful Finn. But Kurt wasn't forced to go. That was something that Kurt and his father had decided upon the previous year when Kurt was struggling with his beliefs. It was obvious that Burt wished Kurt would come with them, but they had compromised by saying it wasn't mandatory for him to come every Sunday.

_And this is a rather special Sunday,_ Kurt reminded himself. It had been two weeks since _that_ night; the one that Kurt would never forget, no matter what happened between him and Blaine. At these memories, Kurt could feel a tightening in his lungs and an ache in his chest. Even though it had been weeks, the thought of what Blaine went through still turned the acid in his stomach sour. The image still stung his eyes with fresh tears as his memory transported him back to that night.

Slamming his hand into the edge of the rock-hard granite countertop, Kurt jolted into reality. Subconsciously, he had made his way back into the kitchen, and with his thoughts in their current state, he had lost all sense of his surroundings. Now, standing in the middle of the room, Kurt tried not to remember the boy who had stood in front of him. The broken and bloody boy that just looked so scared.

_No,_ Kurt thought forcibly to himself, _today is supposed to be perfect! I'm not supposed to think about any of this, even if it's just for this one day! It is an extremely important day, and there is no way I can let Blaine's birthday be anything less than perfect!_

Now, with these thoughts fixed in his mind, Kurt began hurrying around the kitchen, preparing an extra special surprise for Blaine. Pulling on an apron to prevent any possible disasters that could occur with his clothes, he made sure to not mess up his hair. Swiftly, he passed through the kitchen and gathered all of the ingredients, not even needing a recipe. His hands moved quickly as he prepared the dish well known to him; it was one that he always made for his father on his birthday and one that his mother used to make for him. French toast wasn't anything exceptionally special, but the way his mother had cooked it using fresh loaves of bread, apples, and cinnamon with a topping of hand whipped cream just gave him comfort.

As Kurt hummed along with the music playing through his mind, the bread sizzled loudly in the pan. He slid the perfectly golden French toast from the pan onto a heart shaped plate and added a dollop of the hand-made whipped cream on top. Admiring his handiwork, he placed the plate onto a tray he had prepared. Along with the French toast and a mug of coffee, there was a small vase of three roses. Bright crimson would have been too over the top, so Kurt had opted for more gentle, peach colored roses that seemed as if the tips had been lightly dipped in red. He couldn't stop a silly grin from spreading across his face. _I can't wait to see Blaine's reaction, _Kurt practically squealed, _I hope he likes it!_

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><p>Groaning when he saw the soft sunlight streaming around the edges of the window curtain, Blaine turned over and buried his head into his pillow. He hadn't slept for more than a half-hour at a time, his mind plaguing him with memories in the form of dreams. Today was the one day of the year that he dreaded more than the others; it was his birthday.<p>

Smashing his face even tighter to the feather soft pillow beneath it, he tried to suppress the memories that just kept flashing before his eyes. Though they were already burned into his brain permanently, Blaine just kept rehashing them.

A small six year-old in his first year of school came home after a particularly special day of school. Because it was his birthday, the teacher and other students had sung him happy birthday and let him make a special crown to wear for the day. Before that day, he hadn't realized how important birthdays were supposed to make a person feel. Everyone had wanted to sit next to him that day and be best friends with him on the playground.

After three more years, the novelty had begun to wear off. When his classmates treated him in a much kinder way than the other days, Blaine knew that they were just faking their interest in him. They just wanted to be in the spotlight, and that spotlight never shone on Blaine. Truthfully, though, it wasn't what the other kids did that really bothered him, it was the faltering smile on his mother's face and the look of disregard in his father's eyes.

Not even noticing as his eyelids blinked closed yet again, he could see before him the most recent and engrained memory of his birthday two years ago.

Candlelight shimmered through Blaine's otherwise dark bedroom, illuminating his eyes and leaving small spots in his vision. The candles weren't anything special, colored a standard white and propped together in an empty water glass, but they were all Blaine had. _Anyways_, he thought, _there is something stunning yet simplistic in the glow of sixteen candles._ For another moment, all he could do was gaze into the flickering flames dancing together before he decided to make a wish. It wasn't even a wish, exactly, but it was more of just an assortment of hopes: to do something nice for his mother, to make her smile through all the pain, and to learn to smile himself. But last of all, and certainly not least, he wished he had courage. Yes, he did smile, a well-perfected, plastered on smile, but what he really wanted was to just smile because he was truly _happy_. He was tired of just pasting on that smile so that he could pretend to be the courageous person that everyone else saw, and he didn't know how much longer he could keep it up. What he really wanted was to have that courage, but inside, he could never get in right. With a shaking breath, Blaine blew the candles out, watching as the soft trembling of every candle sputtered into darkness. _Please, just give me courage._

A loud crashing, the breaking of glass somewhere in his house, caused Blaine's head to snap up. It had to be his father, and by the sound of it, he was furious. Eyes still adjusting to the inky blackness, he stumbled over the piles of books and clothes littering his floor as he found the path to his door. Gently, so that he didn't make a sound, Blaine found the cold metal of his doorknob and twisted.

"I don't give a damn that the _faggot_ I'm forced to call my son is now one year older! The only consolation I get is that he is one year closer to death!" Mr. Anderson's voice echoed down the hallway from his parents' room, and Blaine felt a sudden jolt of electricity run through his heart. It wasn't the words themselves that really shocked him; every time that his father was drunk, similar things would spew from his mouth, yet they were nonetheless painful to hear. What truly shook him to the core was the clarity of his father's voice. Blaine's father wasn't even drunk this time. The words he was saying revealed what he truly felt without the haze of alcohol clouding his brain. And the truth was that he still despised the very existence of his son.

Blaine could feel his hands trembling, yet he wasn't sure whether it was from anger or from fright. Clenching his teeth at his father's derogatory comment, Blaine hated that he felt pity for himself. _It's not like I deserve anything else_. _I have a roof over my head and food on my plate, I should be grateful enough of just that. _He knew that if he turned around right now and locked his door, he might be able to keep himself safe tonight, yet Blaine couldn't tear himself away from the conversation his parents were having. As his mother's soothing voice tried to calm her husband, Blaine heard the sound of impact made by his father's fist, followed by a small whimper from his mother. _It's not her fault!_ Blaine wanted to scream. Stomach roiling, he winced as his father's voice resonated again through the house. "You _stupid _woman!"

Yet another thud sounded, and Blaine just couldn't take it anymore. It felt as if someone else was dictating his movements as his feet made their way down the hallway, pausing momentarily outside his parents' door. Unsteadily, his legs propelled him forward and he pushed open the door. Cowering away from her husband, Blaine's mother already had blood dripping from her face, and Blaine's stomach protested against this sight. _I promised that I would keep her safe now that I am older, and so far, all I've done is fail her._ Darting his eyes to meet his father's, Blaine could clearly the fury in those cold, twisted features, and seeing just how _sober_ they looked still hurt. Even though he had believed that his father wasn't drunk, he had still been holding on to it as a pathetic kind of hope. Being drunk was the excuse that Blaine had given his father, but if that wasn't the case, he didn't know if he could deal with it.

Sneering at him, Blaine's father jeered, "What? You thought that you would just bust in here and everything would be all right? Or did you just want to join your mother?" Blaine hated the way that his father referred to his wife. It was always _your mother_ or _her_, as if not holding any possession of her would distance their connection. "Look at the two of you," his father taunted. "Neither of you even have the guts to say shit to me in return, you faggot!"

Blaine didn't know what made him do it; maybe it was that he was sick of the nauseating aspersions spewing from his father's mouth, or maybe it was that fact that his mother's bright green eyes were pleading for someone to help her. All he knew was that suddenly, his fist was stinging as it connected with his father's face.

Underneath his fingers, he could feel something crack under the force. _What have I just done?_ Retracting his hand almost as quickly as he had swung it out in the first place, Blaine noticed two things. One, his father's hands were clutched to his nose as blood dripped through the gaps of his fingers. The second thing he noticed was that his father now had a sickening grin spreading across his face, and that terrified Blaine more than anything else.

"Fucking fag! You broke my nose!" Blaine's father exploded, and his mother shrunk back even farther. "Do you think you can just saunter in and have everything under control?" Lips curling over his teeth, his father let out a hoarse bark that resembled some twisted kind of laughter. Closing the ground between them, Blaine's father was now mere inches from his face. They were so close that Blaine could feel he heat of breath on his face, yet his feet were frozen in that spot. Not that it would really matter. Even if he had been able to move, there was nowhere to go that his father wouldn't reach him.

Leaning in closer, if that was possible, Blaine's father hissed, "Well you're wrong. _I'm _the one in control. And _you're_ the one who is going to pay." Blaine's head swam with a wave of dizzying panic, and he pleaded for his legs to just work. _Please, God, not today… I just wanted to have today… just this one day._ But Blaine's feet still weren't budging as his father's hands flew up to his throat, the pressure constricting his airways. Sucking in a wheezy breath through the small space that was left, Blaine could feel the harsh fingers pressing into the tender sides of his throat, and he knew that they would leave even more mottled bruises on his skin. Then a chilling thought crossed his mind and raised the hairs on his arms. _If I even live until tomorrow._

Blaine could feel the pressure of his blood building in his head, and black speckles were appearing around the edges of his vision. _Please_, he tried to speak, _please_. Just that one word, over and over; _please, please, please..._ But all that came out was a strangled gurgling sound.

The merciless smirk spreading across his father's face widened unpleasantly to show teeth. "What are you trying to say, faggot?" he growled. "This too much for you to handle?" Speckles were closing in now, and with the pressure on his throat, Blaine couldn't give any kind of response. It wasn't like his father would have even given him time to respond, because a moment later, Blaine felt the severe impact of a knee right below his ribs. If he wasn't pinned back by his father's hands, he would have been doubled over with the pain. Before he even got a chance to process the action, another sharp blow slammed into his abdomen. A rush of blood surged in his ears, and Blaine couldn't stop his knees from buckling underneath of him. He vaguely realized that he was suddenly gasping the air, the hands that had been crushing his throat now gone. This time, it was a hard shoe that connected with his ribcage, and Blaine could feel something crack. One of his ribs breaking? But he couldn't tell. His senses and the throbbing pains were beginning to go numb. _Is this the end?_ _Is this the end of everything I've been fighting for?_ Finally, the black speckles filled in the last bits of the scene so that he could no longer see the figure looming over him or the jade eyes of his mother, wide with terror. There was just pitch black.

Then, he felt a soft touch graze his cheek. Flailing wildly, his arm made contact with something, no, _someone_ that let out a high-pitched yelp. _Wait, what? _Eyes flying open, Blaine cringed as the bright light practically blinded him. His racing heart faltered as the spots in his sight cleared.

_Kurt_.

Within a fraction of a second, Blaine realized that he wasn't trapped inside his memory anymore. His ribs still ached with a phantom pain, but he was _safe._ He was _alive._

"Blaine?" Standing a few feet away, Kurt was staring at him in apprehension. His eyebrows were knit together with confusion and his forehead was wrinkled with worry. The concern that was clear in Kurt's eyes made Blaine falter. _What am I supposed to do now? I can't tell him, I just can't. I can't watch that face crumple. I can't be the cause for any more unhappiness. I just can't… _

_I wish I could go back and change my words. Why did I have to tell him everything? All I did was make him hurt, and I know better than anyone that he didn't need any more hurt in his life. But that's all I've brought him. He deserves to have happiness, not any more of the shit in my life. I don't deserve him. _

"Blaine?" Kurt repeated timidly. "Please, Blaine, tell me what's wrong. Tell me what I can do," Kurt's voice wavered, his clear blue eyes growing watery. Taking a hesitant step forward, Kurt murmured, "Please, just tell me the truth, you've done it before. Remember what you always say to me? Courage. You're the courageous one, but that doesn't mean that I can't help you." _You're wrong,_ Blaine wanted to tell him. _I've never been the courageous one. Every time I said that word, it was just to try to make myself the same as you. You have always been the courageous one, not me. _

Blaine knew that he hadn't been acting like himself for the last two weeks. The words rolling from his tongue had been so _happy _sometimes. _But it was just pretend._ Even _that_ night, the night he had to explain everything to Kurt, he had acted _confident_. _But that was just what it was; acting. _He had lied through some of the parts so boldly. _Truthfully, I was just numb. _Ever since that night – that one moment, really – something inside of him had snapped. Something of vital importance just _wasn't there_. And in its place, though so well hidden, all he was left with was a gaping hole. All he was left with was numbness.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**So, let me know what you think. Please review!**

**Now, here are some responses to my reviews.**

**boredandhomealone:**** Thanks! I know exactly what you mean about the family already thinking you're nuts, mine definitely thinks the same. Sorry, there weren't exactly humorous parts in this chapter…**

**xSlythStratasfaction:**** Thank you so much! I completely agree with the fact that Blaine needs to be sung to more often. There really need to be more songs with Klaine.**

**annkum:**** I'm glad you like it! Oh, and about the whole bag thing, that's kind of the way I do it too, and I thought that it may be something Blaine would do.**


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:**

**So, there is some information that I keep meaning to say in my author's notes, but I keep forgetting. First of all, they are both seniors. Another important thing is that Blaine is in the same grade as Kurt, because I personally don't even want to **_**think**_** about that until the end of the third season. Also, Kurt is already 18, and Blaine is (obviously) just turning 18.**

**Okay, you can go read the story now. Enjoy!**

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><p>Seeing Kurt standing across the room with apprehension clear in his eyes, Blaine felt reality hit him like a ton of bricks. <em>All I am is a burden. All that I'm doing is just hurting Kurt. No! I can't hurt him the way that my father hurt me! I can't turn into my father! <em>

Kurt shifted his feet, yet he still stood a few paces away from the bed, his eyes wide and sad. _No! I can't be the cause of his sadness! I can't be the cause of his pain; I know what it feels like! So how could I hurt him?_ Somewhere inside, Blaine knew that the reason he had hurt Kurt was just a reflex; he hadn't known that it was Kurt's hand that touched him. But to Blaine right now, he didn't care the reason. All that he knew was that he had _hurt _Kurt. _Oh, God,_ Blaine realized, _I'm no better than my father._ His breath was growing shallow and his heart was beginning to speed to an insane pace as he lost control of his thoughts. _No! I don't want to be like my father! How could I do that to Kurt?_ He was falling apart. After holding it together for that long, he was finally just falling apart, because he just couldn't, he _wouldn't_ be like his father.

Taking a wary step closer to him, Kurt reached out his hand. _No! _Blaine scrambled backwards on the bed, but his legs twisted with the sheets and he felt trapped. Shoulder blades pressed firmly against the hard headboard of the bed, Blaine didn't care that it was digging into his back. What he really needed to do right now was get Kurt as far away from his as possible. _I can't let him get any closer to me. Who knows when I will become a monster just like my father? I've added enough pain to Kurt's life, why can't I just make him happy for once?_

This time when he spoke, Kurt's voice was steadier, his composure regained. Expecting Kurt to withdraw, Blaine was shocked at how _secure _Kurt sounded; it was as if Kurt would be able to steady Blaine's shaking world. "I'm not afraid of you." Those five words were all it took for Blaine to remember. _This is the boy I love. How could I forget? Kurt is the strong one. He can deal with this when I can't. He is the courageous one._ Tension began to release Blaine from his trap as he realized that Kurt could handle him, that Kurt was _strong_ "You don't have to do this alone anymore." _God_, when Kurt said things like that, all Blaine wanted to do was tell him the truth. He had already told Kurt so much of the truth. _Too much of the truth. I was supposed to keep it hidden, but instead all I did was make him hurt. _

Yet there was still so much left unsaid. After _that_ night, he had known that there was something else he wanted to tell Kurt, something else he _needed _to tell Kurt. But he didn't, he couldn't. Physically, he _could not,_ because there was just a _gaping hole_. There was a moment that he just _could not_ remember, no matter how hard he tried. All that was there was a blackness that his mind _could not_ penetrate.

And really, he didn't want to. If he spent too long staring into that inky blackness, he could feel his chest tightening, his lungs closing in on themselves, his world _breaking_. So he just tried to be happy, to smile when he was supposed to, and he blocked out all the bad memories until the didn't even exist. Truthfully, though, they were always there, in the back of his mind, never clear, but always there. It was a hazy cloud that he could keep at bay. _Why have I been so… so… _stupid_? What made me think that I could just keep pretending, and maybe it would work out this time? When did I get so lost in that pretending that I though it might even be real? I thought that I might even actually be happy sometimes, not just hiding behind yet another mask that I created. I am such an idiot! All I did was go around hiding behind a façade that I thought was actually happiness. _

At school, he could pretend so well that none of this was going on. Maybe it was because he had been pretending for so long already, but he realized that ever since that night, he had still been pretending; he had never given up the front he had worked on creating for so many years. It wasn't exactly the same, now that the Hummels knew about it, but he was definitely still pretending. Truly, he had never stopped pretending. All that had happened that night was that Kurt found out a tiny piece of a big puzzled. Because they hardly even talked about if, Blaine could just pretend that other things hadn't happened; he could even almost, just almost, _actually forget._

_I thought that I was finally going to be normal, but all I was doing was lying to myself. Tricking myself that none of it had happened. But just blocking the memories doesn't mean they never happened. All they do is come back when I finally think that everything is done. I will never be the normal person I have been deceiving myself to believe I am. All I am is broken. No matter how hard I smile, they will always be hanging there, in the not so distant depths of my memory, just waiting for the moment when I finally think "maybe this is what happiness feels like", and then they come back. How could I even think of forgetting? How could I? _

Kurt's voice cut through his thoughts, "I'm not afraid. I'll never leave your side." It was as if those penetrating eyes could see right into Blaine's heart and just made him melt. Those blue eyes just looked so _green_ suddenly, so _familiar_ to him. And he knew exactly why. In those aqua eyes of Kurt's begging for the answer, Blaine could clearly see someone else's emerald eyes begging for help, and all he wanted to do was help her. But he failed. He couldn't help her, he was just too weak. Now, those eyes looked bluer, and Blaine knew that it wasn't someone else begging to be saved anymore; it was Kurt who just looked so sad. _That sadness is for me, but it's the last thing I want Kurt to feel. I just want him to be happy. I just want him to be safe. I want to be the one to make him safe._ This time, Blaine knew, he was going to keep this one that he loved safe. This time, Blaine knew, he was going to be strong enough, brave enough, _courageous_ enough.

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><p>Truthfully, when Kurt had first pushed open the door to the bedroom with the tray in his arms, he was scared. Blaine had been lying there, writhing as the blankets twisted around him. Forehead creased with what looked like pain, Blaine's mouth was open as if he was screaming in agony, yet no sound was coming out. And Kurt froze. He didn't know what to do. He saw his boyfriend in torment before him and he just <em>froze.<em> Feeling a pain in his chest, Kurt didn't see anything but the boy before him.

Over the past two weeks, Kurt had known that the smiles Blaine threw at him just weren't the same. The light just wasn't reaching his eyes like it had before _that_ night, and that just confused him even more. _Isn't everything supposed to be getting better now that Blaine is here, now that Blaine is safe?_ Yet nothing seemed better. If possible, the boy in front of Kurt looked even more broken and devastated than he had _that_ night.

For a second, Kurt almost dropped the tray that was forgotten in his arms, but then his instincts kicked in and took over his mind. Placing the tray down on the nightstand, he reached out his hand to brush his boyfriends cheek, hoping to gently wake him up. If he had taken a moment to consider what he was doing, maybe Kurt would have realized that that wasn't the best idea, but he would never have anticipated the response that he would receive.

The moment that Kurt's fingers ghosted over his skin, Blaine had lost it. As Blaine swung his arms frantically to fend off whatever had just touched him, he made harsh contact with Kurt's arm. With a sharp intake of breath at the blunt pain, Kurt backed up as fast as he could, but then he regretted stepping away. Blaine's eyes were now wide with terror as he realized that it was _Kurt_, not anyone else.

"Blaine?" Feeling his eyebrows scrunch together with concern, Kurt didn't want his boyfriend to have that look in his eyes. It was a look that meant so much more than just that he was sorry; it meant that inside, he was killing himself for that one little slip of his composure. That was the last thing that Kurt wanted Blaine to do. _He has already been through enough; he doesn't deserve to beat himself up any more than he already has been._

Staring into the tormented face of the boy he loved, Kurt begged him to answer. "Blaine? Please, Blaine, tell me what's wrong. Tell me what I can do." Right now, his heart was echoing through his head as he tried to concentrate on the right things to say. Lowering his voice, Kurt tried to make it calmer for both himself and Blaine. "Please, just tell me the truth, you've done it before." This time, Kurt could feel the lump growing in his throat and he tried to swallow it back down. _I'm the one who needs to comfort Blaine now, and I won't be much help if all I do is start crying._ Then, he thought one single word. _Courage._ That was the word that Blaine always texted Kurt when he was still being bullied at McKinley. That was the word that Blaine said to Kurt every time his eyes filled up when the two of them were talking at the Lima Bean. That was the word that Blaine whispered in Kurt's ear each and every night as he said goodnight. _Maybe he's the one who needs someone to give him courage for once. _

Recalling all of those times where Blaine encouraged him, Kurt could feel warmth coming from inside his heart. _That's how I want Blaine to feel. I just want him to know what it means to not have to be the strong one for once; what it feels like to have someone tell you that you don't have to do it alone. _"Remember what you always say to me?" Kurt asked, and without even waiting for a response, he breathed that one word. "_Courage_. You're the courageous one, but that doesn't mean that I can't help you." _That's all I really want to do, help you. You've been through so much for so long, always being strong for me no matter what was going on secretly in your own life._ Kurt's heart ached and he couldn't keep the sadness away every time he though of Blaine's… situation…

_No,_ Kurt corrected,_ I might as well accept it now. It wasn't just a _situation. I_t was abuse. _ It still sent a pang through his stomach every time he used that word. In all the time Kurt knew the other boy, he had never expected he would be uttering the words "abuse" and "Blaine" in the same sentence. But then again, he hadn't expected so many of the moments that he spent with the boy he met on the staircase in Dalton, the boy that now looked so small, terrified, and lost. More than anything, Kurt just wanted to comfort the boy before him.

Subconsciously, Kurt's feet moved forward, obeying the idea that he hadn't even decided on yet. Reaching out his hand slowly, he didn't want to move too quickly for fear of startling Blaine. Still, though, Kurt's slight movements were enough to set Blaine off. Sheets tangled with Blaine's limbs as he recoiled from Kurt's outstretched hand, slammed his back tight against the headboard of the bed. At first, Blaine cringed and a frantic look flashed in his eyes. The heart-wrenching expression on Blaine's face left a pang in Kurt's heart. _But I won't give up, _he realized."I'm not afraid of you." Kurt heard the words leave his mouth, and he knew what he was saying was absolutely true. Blaine wasn't the one he was afraid of; it was Blaine's father who terrified Kurt. _And that's exactly the person who Blaine is afraid of right now. _Kurt could see as Blaine began relaxed away from the headboard, his fearful eyes visibly softening. Kurt could hear that Blaine's breathing was still ragged, but at least it was a good sign that he didn't have that frantic look in his features anymore.

Yet as Kurt stood there, he could still see a deep-rooted fear, one that he used to see flashes of whenever Blaine used to fall silent for reasons that Kurt hadn't understood back then. As Kurt took another cautious step forward, he hoped that Blaine wouldn't scramble backwards again. So slowly, Kurt eased his way towards Blaine, trying not to startle the boy as he was just beginning to bring his wall down. He was just starting to let Kurt see him at his weakest point, with no more masks or pretending. Now, Kurt only wanted to help him. _Blaine has been dealing with this on his own for so long, but not anymore. _

Steeling himself, Kurt stared right into Blaine's eyes as he told him, "You don't have to do this alone anymore." _Doesn't he get it yet? He doesn't have to be the brave one anymore. It's his turn to relinquish some of this burden that he had been carrying around with him for so long. It's his turn to be taken care of, and it's my turn to be the one to help him. Why can't he understand that?_ _I'm not going to go running in fear. No matter what, I will be there for him. _

"I'm not afraid. I'll never leave your side," Kurt said with all the truth of his heart. _I'm here now, and nothing you do will ever make me leave. _The effect that his words had on Blaine was immediate, and he could see as the boy's face softened. Unclenching his jaw, Blaine visibly let go of some tension. There was still some pain in his eyes, but Kurt knew that wasn't immediately going to just disappear. Blaine had lived through years of this nightmare; no matter how much Kurt wished he could just make it all disappear, he realized it wasn't going to be that easy. Right now, he knew that Blaine's world was extremely rough, but he would do his best to steady it.

Growling undeniably loudly, Blaine's stomach interrupted Kurt's thoughts, and both Blaine and Kurt let small smiles play across their mouths. Even though Kurt could see that Blaine's did not reach his eyes, it made him feel a little bit better. It gave him hope that, maybe, Blaine wasn't broken beyond repair.

Remembering his original purpose for coming upstairs, Kurt scooped up the ignored tray from the nightstand. He bit his bottom lip, worrying about what to do. _I kind of doubt that Blaine is in a celebrating mood right now… But I swore that I would make this day special for him, and nothing that happened changes that. Anyways, an eighteenth birthday only comes once, and, well, it's an _eighteenth_ birthday. I know it legally only means that he can vote with me now, but what's more important is just the novelty of finally being an adult. _

"Umm…" Kurt started awkwardly, unsure of what to say. "Here," he offered lamely. Holding the tray out to Blaine, he waited for a response, but the other boy was only staring at him with an inscrutable expression. Beginning to doubt his decision to bring breakfast to Blaine in bed, Kurt tried to explain himself. "I kind of… umm… made a little bit of breakfast for you. It's not anything stunning, I mean, it's just some French toast and coffee… and some flowers. Sorry… I just sort of assumed that you would want to, you know, do something special… sorry. If you don't want it I can just bring it back downstairs right now. I probably should have said something before today instead of trying to just surprise you with something special like this. I just didn't really… I mean… I didn't stop to think about if you would want to celebrate your birthday or not, I just kind of selfishly jumped in and started planning everything and-"

"Kurt," Blaine interrupted his mindless babbling, "It's okay." Flashing his eyes up quickly to meet Blaine's gaze, Kurt could see that everything wasn't okay; yet at the same time, the smile teasing at the corners of Blaine's mouth was sincere, truthful. As another growl emitted from his stomach, Blaine asked, "So, is there any chance that I can get some of that French toast? I think that my stomach would really appreciate it right about now." Without hesitation, Kurt placed the tray in his boyfriend's outstretched arms, being careful not to spill any of the coffee.

Leaning his head forward, Blaine's un-gelled curls bounced freely. As he buried his nose into the velvety petals of the roses, he mused, "The flowers are beautiful. Thank you so much for doing this for me, you have no idea just how much it means to me."

When Blaine stared at him with those melted-caramel eyes full of emotions that Kurt couldn't even begin to describe, he could literally feel his legs go weak beneath him. _I know it's such a cliché, _Kurt thought to himself, _but when his curls fall in his face and his lips curl into that smile, I can't help but think that he is the most beautiful person I have ever seen. _"Those flowers can't even compare to how beautiful you are." A wide smile spread across Blaine's face and his eyes glowed. _Holy crap! Did I just say that out loud? No,_ Kurt groaned, _that was one of the cheesiest things ever! I can't believe I thought that, let alone spoke it aloud._ He could fee heat rising quickly up his neck, and he was positive that his entire face was a brilliant red.

Before Kurt had a chance to backtrack in an attempt to salvage his words, Blaine had already moved on. "So," Blaine asked, "about the rest of today, is there any chance that I will get to find out about these plans that you have been making?" _Oh, yeah, that's right. I had a whole day planned out for us._ Excitement was growing in Kurt's chest again as he thought about it; just a whole day that he was going to be with Blaine.

Fixing the most mischievous look on his face as he could muster, Kurt teased, "Well, if you ever actually eat that wonderful breakfast I made for you, I'll let you know. For now, I'll just have to keep it a secret." Blaine stuck out his tongue in such a childish way that Kurt couldn't help himself but to giggle out loud. It seemed like Blaine was excited for the day, because the next second, he started cutting off huge pieces of French toast and cramming them into his mouth. Sitting down next to his boyfriend on the bed, Kurt didn't mean to, but his thoughts just started to wander. _Maybe next year will be happier_, he thought. _Wait, next year? How can I even be sure that I will be with Blaine next year, or the year after that? Not even just for his birthday, but for any day?_ Yet, though he doubted himself, Kurt knew that there would be nowhere else he would rather be, and before he could stop himself, he was imagining his future; he was imagining _their_ future.

He could practically see it; years from now, he would wake up beside Blaine every morning, watching the serene smile play on his mouth before tiptoeing to the kitchen to make breakfast. As he cooked omelets, a groggy-eyed Blaine wearing only his flannel pajama pants would enter the kitchen and greet Kurt with a tender kiss. Kurt would mix up a cup of coffee, just the way Blaine liked it, and sit down to join him at the kitchen table. After a few minutes, they would hear the almost inaudible padding of feet down the hallway and a little girl with sleep-tousled dark ringlet curls would come into view. Looking like an angel in her delicate white nightgown, she would still be rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Blaine would beckon her over and pull her onto his lap, a smile playing his lips. They would be a _family_, and through the tough times they would stick together; they would love each other even more, because there would always be a tomorrow. A wonderful, beautiful, breathtaking future was waiting for them.

In the blink of an eye, Kurt was back in the guest room of his house, but the thought still lingered. Instantly, Kurt realized that he had made his decision long ago. _I'll stay with him forever._ With this thought, Kurt could feel a flutter of nervous excitement in his chest. _I will still be standing by Blaine's side, years from now. What Blaine has gone through will not change that; if anything, it will only make that more definite._

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><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**Okay, so I know that this didn't have a lot of action and some of the things repeated, but I was trying to have some of the characters thoughts and feelings to set up a few things. **

**Can you guess what next chapter is? It's actually what they do on Blaine's birthday. Never did I think that Blaine's birthday was going to be three chapters.**

**Anyways, I hope you liked it! Please review! It makes me so happy when someone reviews!**

**Oh, and here are some responses to my reviews:**

**mid-morning rain:**** Yay! I'm glad to make you happy, and also that someone else loves that song, too!**

**annkum:**** Trust me, it made me so sad to write that chapter. I hope that Kurt helps Blaine, too, because to tell the truth, there are still some parts that I am a bit unsure about what is going to happen.**

**boredandhomealone:**** I totally agree with you. When I write or read things where Blaine has a terrible father I just start to feel all protective.**

**sseventhdwarf:**** I'm glad you are enjoying it so far!**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN:**

**First, I just want to say sorry for this taking a bit longer than usual. I've been kind of busy with Christmas (or Chrissmas if you prefer) and some other stuff. In my defense though, this is a bit longer than most of my other chapters. **

**Oh, and I also wanted to say thank you to those of you who alerted this after the first few chapters because I went back and read them and then I was like **_**What was I even thinking?**_

**The song in this chapter is "What If I Told You" by Jason Walker. Here is the link so that you can listen to is as it's being sung, but you don't have to. (Just take out the spaces.)  
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**http: / www . youtube . com/watch?v=9QLbxK29A9Y  
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**Enough of my babbling, you can just go read the chapter now.**

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><p>When they first got in the car, Blaine just let Kurt talk about whatever arbitrary things came to his mind. He knew that Kurt was trying to do that on purpose, trying to bring Blaine into a more positive mood. It wasn't that Blaine didn't appreciate the distraction from his thoughts, but at the same time, it truthfully hurt a little bit. <em>I know I made it clear that I didn't want to…that I <em>couldn't _talk about what happened this morning. I know that I promised to do something fun today, and not only for Kurt's sake. But how do I know that I'm not just pretending. For so long, that's what I've been doing, and now it's gotten to the point that even I_ _can't tell what my true feelings are anymore. How do I know if I actually feel cheerful or if it's just an automatic defensive wall that I'm so used to having up all of the time? I just so sick of all this pretending, but does that mean I can't be happy? _

Scrunching his eyes shut, Blaine tried to drive these thoughts out of his mind. When he opened them up again, he realized that Kurt's eyes were trained on him and there was a worried expression on his face. "Are you all right?" Kurt's voice suddenly lacked its previous energy and enthusiasm, now filled with concern that sent another pang through Blaine's heart. _The last thing I need to do right now is make Kurt feel like that. After he went through all of the trouble of trying to make this day as special as possible, I owe him to at least try to not think about those negative things for just a little while._

"I'm fine," the words flowed smoothly out of Blaine's mouth before he realized what he was saying. _Wait… why am I still lying to Kurt? He has been the one person I have felt safe enough with to let in just a little bit. No matter how untruthful I have been with him, Kurt has been there to comfort me, and not only for the past few weeks. Kurt deserves for me to tell him the truth._ Still, though, Blaine couldn't bring himself to ruin the mood that Kurt was working so hard to build. "I was just trying to figure out where you are kidnapping me to." There was a slight waver and a hint of pain in his voice that betrayed his attempt at sounding lighthearted_. _

A knowing look appeared in Kurt's eyes, showing that he hadn't missed the little stumble in Blaine's demeanor. Gently, he said one of the things that Blaine most needed to hear. "We can always just turn around and go back any time you need; just say the word." It wasn't that Blaine was actually going to take the offer. _God, no, not after Kurt did all of this for me._ Yet the words being offered him were more than enough to warm his heart. Kurt was giving him a _choice_, something that he was so used to being denied. That control was something that he had longed for in his own life, not as just another pretense that he portrayed to everyone else. Now, though, Kurt was offering him the choice, and that was all he needed. Of course he would not turn around now, but just knowing that he was the one that made that decision was all the difference it took. _I'm the one choosing what I am doing and how I feel about it, and right now, I need to stop dwelling in the things I can worry about another time and instead try to enjoy this day that Kurt is working _so _hard at making just perfect._

Lost in his own thought, Blaine glanced up a moment later to realize that Kurt was still gazing at him with those teal eyes speckled with grey. It seemed as if they could just penetrate through right through Blaine, see through the fake. _But that's not true,_ Blaine had to remind himself. _He can't tell the thoughts that are going on in my head. If he could only…_ In these little moments, Blaine could pretend in a different way than ever before. Blaine could pretend that instead of his usual attempt of a fantasy where Kurt knew nothing, he knew everything. Blaine could pretend that he didn't need to say anything, that they didn't need to talk about any of those agonizing things. In those moments, he could talk and not feel the emptiness in his words; he could breath without the crushing weight on his chest.

But then, the instant was over. Blaine had to go back to what he was used to, conjuring up the energy and showing the excitement a normal person should have, but instead he was pushing himself on.

"So…" Blaine's slightly hoarse voice broke the silent anxiousness that was building in the car. "Are you ever going to tell me where we are going? Or am I going to have to find a way to _make _you?" Starting out slowly, Blaine could feel himself slipping back into the comfort of the personality he was almost defined by. Kurt's eyes were now trained on the road as he focused on driving on winding road, yet Blaine could still see the muscles of his jaw relax at the more casual tone of voice.

For the next half-hour, he continued attempting to sneak some information out of his boyfriend, but Kurt was astute. Every time that Blaine made another sly venture at luring Kurt into giving away even just a clue, Kurt was ready with another comment sidetrack him. As the car ride just kept drawing on, Blaine could feel himself reverting to the character he usually embodied around Kurt. Blithely, he could joke around when he was with Kurt, he could smile. _But is it real?_ His mind would ask. Wondering about that had never gotten him far before. It was true that there were so many times that he only feigned his positive attitude, that he just pushed away everything else as if it wasn't there. _But isn't this different?_ When he was with Kurt, Blaine could feel some of the pressure alleviated; they could just fall into almost effortless conversation.

As the car turned sharply around a corner, Blaine is forced to snap out of his reverie to keep himself from sliding across the leather seat. "Sorry," Kurt mumbled, "The roads are starting to get a bit icy, but I promise that we are almost there." Right then, Blaine realized that there were small, white blurs speeding at the windshield. Gradually at first, and then more rapidly, a small snow flurry was beginning. Miniature snowflakes were floating down from the sky, and the ground was growing pale due to accumulated flakes. It was only two weeks before Christmas, so it wasn't uncalled for, yet it still seemed absolutely magical to Blaine. He wasn't positive, but he didn't think he could ever remember it snowing on his birthday before. _Even if it had_, Blaine knew, _it wouldn't have been nearly as beautiful as today._

"Here we are," Kurt announced, twisting the wheel in his hands once more as he pulled into a gravel parking lot that Blaine hadn't even noticed. At first, he couldn't see anything other than the trees and a few other cars, and then he got a glimpse of a little log cabin in the gap between a copse of trees.

As Kurt adjusted the car in an imaginary parking space and brought it to a stop, Blaine was completely confused. "Where are we, and what can we be doing out in the middle of nowhere?" In response to Blaine's slightly apprehensive tone, Kurt just threw him a smile that only moderately reassured him. Stepping out of the heated car, Blaine could feel the bitter cold of winter assault him and he pulled his coat tighter around himself. The two of them started towards the log cabin, because where else was there to go?

Smoke was billowing out of a slate chimney on the left, and Blaine hoped that it would be warmer inside. As they headed towards the maple colored building, Blaine could see more of an opening between the vertical trunks blocking his view. Behind the final row of trees he could catch glimpses of figures darting by, some quicker and some much slower. _Wait…is it…? _Finally reaching the cabin, Blaine's assumptions were confirmed when he saw other people walking away with pairs of skates fastened onto people's feet as they wobbled across the solid ground.

Snapping his head up to meet Kurt's gaze, he still wanted a little more verification. Eyebrows quirked, Kurt asked, "So, did I make a wrong choice, or are you all right with skating?" Blaine could feel as his lips spread wide, parting to let a sincere smile shine through and reassure his boyfriend. _It's absolutely perfect,_ he wanted to say, yet he couldn't find the right words make that clear. Instead, he just tried to portray it through his face, but he wasn't quite sure how effective that was. Looking slightly encouraged, Kurt said, "I can just go get us some skates if you want to wait here for a minute?" After a slight nod from Blaine, Kurt took a step forward before turning back for a second to ask, "Oh, what shoe size do you need?"

"Ten," he answered thoughtlessly, his mind still thinking about skating. _It's not like I commonly got to go stating when I was a kid, my parents had much more important things to do,_ Blaine tried to keep the acrimony out of his thoughts. Focusing now, he thought of how the first time he actually went skating was with the boys at Dalton. Some of the warblers were going skating, and somehow he had let it slip that he had never been before. They were incredulous, yet they teased him nonetheless and dragged him along with them. _To tell the truth,_ Blaine considered, _even though I complained as they zipped by me and caused me to fall so many times, it was amazing. _After that first time, he was hooked on skating. It felt like he was finally free and no one could touch him as he flew across the ice. It was those times that had made him feel free, and that had been one of the best feelings he ever had. _But are those feelings lost? I just can't feel that anymore, but I thought it was supposed to get better from here?_

Footsteps approached him and saw Kurt coming towards him with two pairs of skates dangling from his hands. "Here you go," Kurt offered the smaller pair of skates to Blaine. "There's a bench over there where we can change out of our shoes." Just nodding again, Blaine tried to focus back in the moment. _Quit thinking these things! Today Kurt has worked so hard to make my birthday wonderful, why do I have to screw this up! _Determined to make the two of them enjoy the day, he took a seat next to his boyfriend. Lacing up his skates as quickly as he could, Blaine stood up and held out his hand for Kurt to place his own in it.

When he focused on the scenery and blocked out his thoughts, everything seemed breathtaking. Snowflakes were still falling, adding to the surreal feeling of the surroundings. Blaine hadn't even known that places like these still existed somewhere other than the movies, and it was amazing that Kurt had found this place, let alone that it was out in the middle of this open rural area. _It's just…beautiful._

Standing at the edge of the ice, Blaine was hesitant; it was always the first step on the ice that was the hardest. He could put on the skates and walk around on the solid ground, but it wouldn't compare to the way the ice responded to the metal blades of the skates. Steeling his breath, Blaine took the first step onto the ice. His feet skimmed over the frozen pond, yet they were still a little wobbly at first. It took a few laps, but Blaine could feel his muscles relaxing and his strides growing smoother. Feeling a warm hand slip into his own, warm fingers lacing through his cold ones, Blaine turned his head slightly to look at the boy next to him. "So…" Kurt nervously bit his lip, "What do you think?" Gracefully gliding his legs across the ice in long sweeps, Kurt was obviously rather skilled at ice-skating. Blaine could have just watched him practically float over the ice and be content; he didn't even need to be skating himself, though that made it so much better.

Leaning in closer, he whispered in Kurt's ear, "It's absolutely wonderful. I can't believe you did this just for me." In response, Kurt gave a slightly embarrassed smile and squeezed Blaine's hand. Blaine wasn't positive whether it was just from the cold, but Kurt's cheeks and nose were flushing pinker than normal. For some reason, he had to fight the sudden, inexplicable urge to reach up and run his hand down the side of Kurt's velvety cheek. Instead, he settled for gripping his boyfriend's hand tightly in his own as they skated in sync with each other. He didn't care if some mothers were giving them disapproving glances out of the corners of their eyes; yeah, it did hurt a little, but the warmth of Kurt's hand in his own much more than compensated for that.

Blaine didn't know for how long they just skated hand in hand, but he didn't really care. _It's not only that I can just pretend so easily when everything is like this, but it also is the closest I actually get to those feelings that flit around the edges of my mind. Today is actually turning into something positive from all of the pain that I felt this morning. _ Well, it was until Blaine heard a shout come from the other side of the ice. Hyperactive senses had come from years of straining to hear sounds like a car door slamming, but they were now something that Blaine cursed. Though he hated how perceptive his ears were right now, he couldn't argue with the fact that there were times he had thanked God he could hear so well. But right now he wished he were either deaf or blind, because in those cases he wouldn't have snapped his head in the direction of the voice.

He didn't know exactly what the boy had done, but by the looks of a little girl with tears in her eyes, he had probably pushed his sister over or something trivial. That wasn't what caused a pang of pain to shoot through his chest, though. As he watched the father harshly dragging his son along by his arm, Blaine could practically feel his own father's grip on him. It was a ghost sensation, yet his lungs tightened immediately and his heart sped up. _Why does this have to happen after everything else I've dealt with today? Haven't I been reminded enough? I know that I can't just go back to pretending like I have been anymore; I'm in too far for that now. But why does that mean that Kurt has to see me all of these times that I break down. It's as if the whole world I have built up over the past few years and struggled to keep composure of these past weeks is just determined to come crumbling down on me today. _

There was nothing he could do to stop his feet from faltering. He could feel his legs sliding out from under him, but suddenly he remembered the hand holding his own as it squeezed tighter. Kurt was there, holding Blaine steady, not only by just holding his hand, but by with the reminder that it wasn't just Blaine, it was _them._ Finding his footing again, Blaine could feel a sense of relief that he wasn't in the past anymore, that he wasn't _alone_ anymore. That still wasn't enough to prevent his thoughts from growing venomous, though. _God, I'm so pathetic! How could I be that stupid! All I can do today is fall to pieces._

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice was unsure, and Blaine hated to think of what was going on in his head. Shaking slightly, Blaine welcomed the tight grasp of Kurt's hand. "I'm here, and I promise that that I will stay right by your side. No matter what, I won't let you fall." Some little voice in Blaine's head told him that Kurt wasn't just talking about him falling on the ice; the words he said meant much more than that. Blaine wasn't sure what it was, but something that Kurt saw when he looked at him made him ask, "Would you prefer to leave now, Blaine?" Worrying his bottom lip between his teeth, Kurt was trying to read the emotions playing across Blaine's face.

"No," Blaine answered before he even cognitively made that decision. Recently, his brain had been doing a lot of that, but right now, he was glad to not have to decide. Sometimes his subconscious knew what he needed more than the logical part of him brain. For now, he needed to skate hand in hand with his boyfriend, and maybe a little piece of him would be all right.

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><p>When they were two steps away from the Hummel-Hudson's front door, Kurt tugged Blaine's hand backwards, forcing him to a stop. Almost the entire day, their hands had been intertwined, whether it was while they glided across the ice, or as Kurt had driven with one hand woven in Blaine's and the other on the wheel. Blaine wasn't sure if Kurt could tell that was just what he needed, or if Kurt himself wanted to keep holding on, but it was absolutely perfect either way.<p>

Standing on the doormat that read 'Welcome Home', the two of them were paused for reasons unknown to Blaine. _To tell the truth, the way that Kurt is biting his lip right now is making me sort of nervous. _Before Blaine could tell Kurt to just say what he wanted, he was already opening his mouth to talk. "I just want to warn you before we go inside," Kurt started off, and Blaine could feel an anxious twist in his stomach. "I'm pretty sure that once I let it slip to Carole that it was going to be your birthday, she um… kind of started planning to do a little something for you too." The air escaped Blaine in a rush, and he could feel his heart beating again.

"Seriously," Blaine's tone was lighthearted again, "That's what you were getting me all worried about?" At this, Kurt gave another squeeze to Blaine's hand and a slightly sheepish grin. His breaths of air were visible in the frigid air, and Kurt's nose was still flushed with the chill. Holding back from pressing a chaste kiss on the tip of that rosy nose, Blaine asked, "So, can we go in now before we both freeze to death out here?"

Pushing open the door, they both stepped into the heated house only to be greeted by a spattered call of "Happy Birthday" from the three other people who stood in the foyer. Blaine could feel a smile spread his lips wide and a different kind of warming glow fill his heart that had nothing to do with the temperature inside the house. _Is this how a birthday is supposed to feel,_ he wondered, _warm and welcoming?_ As Carole's arms enveloped him in a hug, his only regret was having to break away from Kurt. Carole was soft, though, and her hugs reminded him of how he used to curl up on his own mother's lap when he was younger; it made him feel like he was finally _home_.

She must have felt the small twinge that made Blaine stiffen when the word _Mom_ filled his head, because the next second, he could feel her arms tighten a fraction. Before pulling away, she pressed a soft kiss into his curls and whispered so that just he could hear, "Please know that I'm here for much more than just your birthday, sweetie. You can come to me any time you need to, and that's not just a gift for today." Blaine had no idea where all of this was coming from, but he could see in her chocolate eyes that she truthfully meant what she was saying. This was one small doorway out of the world that Blaine could feel crumbling down around his shoulders, yet he still shut that door too. Really, he wished that he could spill his guts out to her or to Kurt, but that time was supposed to have happened weeks ago, when they first found out. It hadn't though, because Blaine still held on to trying to be the perfect, strong, courageous person he was still supposed to be; that was the person he _had_ to be. Closing that door that gave him a way out, Blaine tried to shut down those unpleasant feelings and memories. Something he saw in Carole's face as she stepped backwards, though, still made him smile a large thank you.

Both Finn and Burt were standing uncomfortably to the side, neither stepping up in the same way that Carole had, yet Blaine hadn't really expected them to. "So," Carole broke through the slight awkwardness. "I'm guessing you two didn't have any dinner yet, did you?" While Kurt shook his head, Blaine gave his boyfriend's watch a quick glance. It took him a moment to read the scrawling cursive writing on the decorated silver face, but Blaine finally made out that it was around six o'clock. _Wow, I didn't realize we were gone for that long._ After the slight _disturbance_ while ice skating, Blaine had relaxed back into just gliding across the ice and listening to Kurt's stories of how he used to absolutely _love _going skating. Blaine learned of how his mother had given him "lessons" on how to spin without getting dizzy and how his father had to talk him out of wearing a leotard and tutu. Somewhere in his visions of Kurt twirling across the ice in a form-fitting outfit, Blaine had completely lost track of the time and fallen into some kind of winter fantasy where the two of them skated until they couldn't feel their toes or fingers, but they wouldn't let go of each other's hand.

Stomach growling, Blaine was brought out of his thoughts as Carole gave a small laugh. "I guess that's your stomach's way of telling me that dinner would be very much appreciated right about now, huh sweetie?" Now that he thought about it, Blaine didn't think he had had anything to eat since the French toast that morning, and, well, he was a teenage boy after all, growing or not. "Come on," Carole beckoned, "I actually have dinner in the oven right now, but we usually start with the cake anyways on birthdays, so it's all right." _Cake? When was the last time that I actually got a chance to have a cake for my birthday, let alone a homemade one?_

As they made their way into the kitchen, Blaine found himself growing more excited. Within a moment of Blaine taking a seat at the table, Carole had whisked over a cake, frosted in chocolate with his name written across the top. Inside, Blaine could feel his stomach twisting in knots. _I don't deserve this. They have already done way too much for me by just letting me stay here, and I can't even repay them with the truth. Yet they still do everything in their power to make me happy. I'm not worth it; I'm just too broken, and the only reason they don't see that yet is because I've just gotten so good at hiding it._

Reaching in front of Blaine, Carole clicked the lighter a few times before a flame shot from it and the wicks of the candles finally combusted. Someone got up and flicked off the overhead light, but Blaine wasn't sure if it was Finn or Kurt's father. All he was focused on was the flickering of those candles, thinking about just how different this situation was from where he usually was on his birthday. The Hummel-Hudsons started singing happy birthday, and Blaine could hear each of their distinct voices. Burt was slightly out of tune, yet it was still touching that he was trying. Finn's baritone blended easily with the other voices, and Carole's voice was like a gently lullaby. Last, but certainly not least, Blaine could feel Kurt's steady voice holding him together, and he knew that he loved this moment much more than just sitting in his room alone and singing a whispered happy birthday to himself.

When the last ring of "Happy Birthday" died away, Blaine glanced over at Kurt, who had a smile of encouragement on his face. "Now you get to make a wish," Kurt beamed at him. _There are only two things that I want right now,_ Blaine thought. _One is for my whole past to be gone so that I can just be perfect for you, and two is just to have _you. _But that wouldn't be fair would it? All I would do is make you hurt with the truth, and I don't think I can go back to being that cold, hardened person I keep pretending to be. I just wish you were happy._ With an exhalation of air, Blaine blew the dancing flames out, leaving only a puff of smoke lingering in their place.

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><p>By now, it was eleven o'clock at night, and Blaine was reclining on the couch as the television buzzed quietly with some show that he didn't even know. Burt had fallen asleep an hour earlier, and Carole had gently shaken him awake for them to go up to bed. Then, Kurt had snuggled into Blaine's side and drifted off too, and Blaine could feel the rise and fall of his boyfriend's chest against his own. After that, Finn obviously felt a bit out of place, and he awkwardly gave Blaine a little wave before retreating up to his bedroom.<p>

Stroking a hand over Kurt's silky soft hair, Blaine pressed a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead. Though he thought he had been tender enough, Kurt's eyes still fluttered open at the contact. As he raised a hand to rub at his eyes, he sat up, much to Blaine's disappointment. "Crap," he mumbled, "It's eleven o'clock already! Sorry for just falling asleep on you like that," Kurt added, and Blaine could have sworn that even in the dark, he could see Kurt flushing a faint pink.

"It's no problem at all," Blaine commended. _In fact, I wish you would do that more often. When you sleep you're even more surreal than normal; you look like an angel. _If Blaine had said that aloud, he knew it would have sounded almost cheesier than it had in his head, so he refrained from speaking those thoughts.

"Oh, yeah!" Kurt looked like he just remembered something, because, well, he had. "There is one more thing that I wanted to give you as a sort of gift." _You don't need to give me anything else, _Blaine wanted to say. _ You've already given me much more than I deserve. _But he didn't, because there was a happiness shining in Kurt's turquoise eyes that Blaine knew he had shattered before, and he didn't want to again. Instead, he just slipped his hand into the warmth of Kurt's and curled up the corners of his mouth into a smile. He let Kurt pull him up from the couch and lead him down the hallway. "So, it's not exactly a present, per se," Kurt bit his lip timidly. Leading Blaine up the stairs, Kurt tread quietly so that they wouldn't wake up anyone who was still awake. They made their way past Finn's room, where a light still shone from underneath the door, and they continued past Kurt's room, too.

Finally, Kurt reached out to the handle on another spare room that Blaine had never paid much attention to. In a quiet whisper, Kurt tried to explain, "So, once my dad married Carole, they sold their individual houses and we pooled the money together to buy this new house where we all had our own room. To tell the truth, this house probably had a few too many additional rooms that we didn't need. But I'm still glad that we got it because having extra rooms kind of came in handy, kind of like in your case," Kurt was rambling a bit at this point, but it didn't bother Blaine at all. "This room is kind of used as storage, almost, for some of the things that neither Carole or my father really wanted to get rid of when they moved."

As Kurt turned the doorknob, Blaine could see fairly clearly into the room. There wasn't a bed or anything, but there was what seemed to be an oak bureau standing to one side of the room. In truth, it was actually a fairly small and sparsely filled room. Other than the dresser, there were only some old canvasses propped in one corner, but what really caught Blaine's eye was the inky-black grand piano that was reflecting a few rays of light off of it's still shining surface.

"This is kind of the room that Carole keeps some of the things of her husband," Blaine could hear how Kurt's voice was choking up and see how his eyes were swimming with unshed tears. "Also, it's where we keep some of the thing that were my mother's." On the last word, Kurt's voice broke and a single tear escaped down his cheek. What Blaine wanted to do more than anything was just pull Kurt into his arms and comfort him, but inside he could feel a different kind of pain than Kurt's, and he knew that he there was no way he could help his boyfriend if he was just as broken. Clearing his throat, Kurt kept going, _because he's stronger than me, and he always has been,_ Blaine knew. "Sorry for that," Kurt apologized, "I thought that this was going to be easier that that. So, going back to what I was saying, I just wanted to show this to you. I know that you haven't exactly had the chance to play a guitar or piano lately, and I'm sorry that it took me this long to get up the courage to show you this, but I just wanted to say that you can use my mom's piano any time you want." He was rushing to get his words out before he started to cry again, but a few more stray tears slid down his cheeks. "So…um…here's your last birthday present," he ended as he tried to smile through his tears at Blaine.

_Oh, God, _Blaine thought as he pulled Kurt towards him in a tight hug, _you are so strong, why can't you see that? I'm just hiding from everything while you keep pressing forward. Everything you do is absolutely perfect, even in your sorrow, but I can't even show you how weak I really am._ Letting Kurt just hold on to him for a moment, Blaine could feel the shaking of Kurt's delicate shoulders against his chest. They only stayed like that for a few minutes before Kurt pulled back. "Sorry," he muttered, still wiping the tears from his face, "I didn't mean for that to happen. This was meant to be a good birthday present, not a sad one."

_But it is a good birthday present._ "It's absolutely perfect," Blaine said aloud. "I can't believe you would do so much for me." _I don't deserve how much you have given to me. You gave me a piece of your heart, but I will hardly let you into my own._

Audibly swallowing down the lump in his throat, Blaine asked, "So, um, would you mind if I play a song?" _What am I doing? _At Kurt's nod of assent, Blaine, still holding his hand, made his way across the room to the piano. Sliding the bench out, Blaine took a seat and gestured for his boyfriend to sit next to him on the worn seat. Gently, he raised the cover on the keys, making sure not to bang it too loudly. As he touched his fingertips to the ebony and ivory keys, Blaine glanced over at Kurt's expectant gaze, still softened by tears. _He's given me so much, why can't I just give him a fraction of that? Why am I so weak?_ Softly, Blaine added pressure to his fingers until a melody began to flow through them. He wasn't sure if Kurt had ever heard it before, but he had personally played it through his mind so many times. Opening his mouth, he let the smooth words flow off of his tongue.

_What if I told you  
>Who I really was <em>

_What if I let you in on my charade?_

_What if I told you  
>What was really going on<br>No more masks and no more parts to play  
><em>

Until he let the lyrics out, he hadn't realized what he was really saying. _Oh, God, what am I doing?_ But there was no more turning back now. Once the first words were out of his mouth, he couldn't stop his fingers from dancing down the keys.

_There's so much I want to say  
>But I'm so scared to give away<br>Every little secret that I hide behind  
>Would you see me differently?<br>And would that be such...a bad thing  
>I wonder what it would be like<br>If I told you_

_What if I told you_  
><em>That's its just a front<em>  
><em>To hide the insecurities I have<em>

_What if I told you_  
><em>That I'm not as strong<em>  
><em>As I like to make believe I am<em>

Blaine could feel himself cracking. It wasn't like he was truthfully telling Kurt anything. In reality, though, he was saying that he had never truthfully opened up; that he was pathetic and weak, and that he still couldn't bring himself to say what he needed to, even though Kurt had been nothing but _wonderful _to him.

_There's so much I want to say  
>But I'm so scared to give away<br>Every little secret that I hide behind  
>Would you see me differently?<br>And would that be such...a bad thing  
>I wonder what it would be like<br>If I told you_

_Oh if I told you_

_There's so much I want to say_  
><em>But I'm so scared to give away<em>  
><em>Every little secret that I hide behind<em>  
><em>Oh would you see me differently?<em>  
><em>And would that be such...a bad thing<em>  
><em>I wonder what it would be like<em>  
><em>If I told you<em>

_What if I told you_  
><em>What if I told you<em>  
><em>What would it be like<em>  
><em>What would it be like<em>  
><em>If I told you<em>  
><em>Oh what if I told you<em>  
><em>Oh I wonder what it would be like<em>  
><em>If I told you<em>

Blaine was terrified to look up into Kurt's eyes; he was afraid that they would be able to see right through him, right through those brick walls he had built up that now just seemed like fragile glass. Hands still poised over the keys, Blaine's mind was spinning. _What if I did tell Kurt?_ But with just one look at the delicate boy with tearstains on his cheeks Blaine decided. _Not tonight._

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><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**So, I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Please review!**

**Here are some responses to the reviews I got:**

**GinnyMartin:**** Most moving story in a long time? Well, I feel like that's a bit too much credit, but thank you anyway.**

**annkum:**** Um, pretty much everything you said is completely spot on. You could probably be writing this story yourself if you wanted to.**

**Hanabella Louise:**** I'm glad you liked the story so far, and I hope you continue to.**

**soratanaka:**** I hope that you continue to enjoy this story!**

**xSlythStratasfaction:**** Thanks! You'll probably get a little bit more of Kurt's POV in some future chapters, just not this one. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:**

**So, I don't want to offend anyone who doesn't celebrate Christmas, but that's kind of what this chapter is about. For those who do celebrate Christmas, I know that this chapter is a little bit late for the holiday, but after Christmas I just had this idea and I needed to write it in.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p>A soft jingling of bells greeted Blaine's ears as he found himself somewhere between a sleep world and what must have been reality. Still mostly asleep, his mind was trying to comprehend the noise, and somewhere in a dream he could have sworn that Santa Claus was landing on the roof at this very moment in time.<p>

But the moment that a heavy weight landed on his bed, sending the springs squeaking and frame shaking violently, Blaine realized that he stopped believing in Santa Claus long ago. Instantly, his eyes flew open and his heart slammed against his ribcage as his mind raced backwards in time, preparing for one of many scenarios with his father. Seeing clearly despite the darkness that still enveloped his room, Blaine could feel a relieved gasp of air whistle through his dry throat. _I'm not living in the past anymore,_ Blaine forced his thoughts to slow down enough to coherently form a sentence in his brain. _It's just Kurt, no one else. _Slowly, his brain began to make sense of his previous thoughts.

The ringing sounds that he had heard was just the jingle bells that had been hung on his doorknob when the Hummel-Hudson family decorated for Christmas. Kurt and Blaine both knew that Burt had ulterior motives for the placement of those extremely noisy bells.

That was the easy part of the truth for him to face. Another reality that was floating around inside his head reminded him that whenever he heard a loud noise or if something unseen surprised him, his brain automatically reverted to panic mode. Almost every morning, at this point, he was jolted awake by some small noise that his brain had hyperactively noted. Honestly, the only reason for that was the memories that plagued his mind every time he fell asleep. There wasn't anything he could do about it anymore; he couldn't stop those unwanted thoughts from intruding on his mind while he slept.

Really, that wasn't completely why he was starting to hate sleeping. What truly scared him was that it felt like the version of himself living in those dreams, his subconscious, was slowly slipping away to something that he absolutely abhorred with every fiber of his being. Sleeping was his most vulnerable time, and something not so deep in his memories always took advantage of that. Actually, it hadn't started out that way when he first came to the Hummel-Hudson household. For the first days, he hardly slept, and when he did it was only a jump in his mind; one minute he would be staring blindly into the darkness, fighting to keep away all of those thoughts that he suppressed during the daytime, then, the next minute, he was blinking against the brightness of morning flooding his room. Those nights had come as a relief, but they hardly occurred anymore.

The change hadn't happened in one moment or one day, but gradually Blaine felt himself growing jumpier until every little sound of the wind blowing would cause his eyes to snap open immediately, expecting the worst. Expecting the last few weeks to be a dream. Expecting to wake up any day now back in that _horrid _place just _waiting_ and _dreading_ what he knew was coming. Expecting to face Kurt the next morning at school and have him not know a single thing about what really happened under Blaine's roof.

It felt like someone was squeezing his heart with as much force as humanly possible, and Blaine's thoughts skidded to a halt. _What am I thinking? Haven't I wished for that exact thing a million times since I came to Kurt's house? All I want is for Kurt to be happy, so why is it painful for me to think of Kurt idolizing me as the perfect boy again, without anything soiling that persona?_

There was no way that Blaine was going to admit it to himself, but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that it was because once he had the freedom, the hope, the possible happiness that Kurt's family offered, he didn't want to let go of it. Blaine knew just how selfish that was, and every time a thought like that even crossed his mind, he hated himself for ever imagining it for even a fraction of a second. _I don't deserve to make them sad just because I can't have the perfect life that everyone thinks I should. All they have done for me is too much, why can't I just let them have a happy, normal life? If only I could just disappear, not exist anymore._ Suddenly, those words hit him in the stomach, more sickening than any physical blow could have been.

_No! What am I even thinking?_ Trying to backtrack, Blaine was shoving a new lie right down his throat. _I didn't mean that, _he tried to convince himself. _I _can't _mean that._ Sometimes Blaine just felt like he was alone in his mind, fighting a losing battle with his thoughts as he just kept forcing himself to keep breathing.

And then there was Kurt, practically bouncing on top of his bed with a giddy excitement and a wide smile. It was unusual sight, seeing as how Kurt usually acted proper and refined. 1He was like a child on Christmas morning, because, well, it _was _Christmas morning. Something in those grinning lips and sparkling eyes filled with delight just made Blaine wish he could be that cheerful, courageous, perfect boy that Kurt first met. Gritting his teeth, he knew that there was something he could do about that. Like so many other times before, Blaine struggled to shove at the thoughts in his mind. Slowly, he could feel as he forced them into the back of his mind. It still shocked him that he could actually still do that. All of those thoughts and feeling felt so overwhelming most of the time, but when he looked at the angelic face of his boyfriend, he was able to choke down his memories. Yet he knew that those same memories could only be suppressed for so long before they came back with vengeance, intent on twisting his mind even more.

For now, though, he could just put the mask back on; he felt safer that way anyhow, much less vulnerable and revealed. In the current day, he could just keep pretending that the smiling boy was himself and that everything had actually improved. Blaine could feeling his mouth curling into a familiar smile, one that he used to have perfected, but for some reason he just couldn't figure out how to make that light reach his eyes anymore. Instead, Blaine just ran his hands over his face under the pretense of rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

When he blinked his eyes again, Kurt was holding out a hand for him to take. This bouncing boy was so unlike the one Blaine was accustomed to, yet in was somewhat a relief to see him able to let go of his more formal personality. "Are you ready to go open some presents?" Kurt asked through his smile. Something dark twisted in the pit of Blaine's stomach, and he could have sworn that if he had just eaten a meal, his stomach would have dispelled it at this point. _No!_ Blaine wanted to snap back, but not at his boyfriend, at himself. For a the faintest flash of time, he had felt excitement curl in his stomach at the thought of those decorated boxes all done up with bows sitting beneath a Christmas tree. Then, his brain caught up, and the satisfaction that had warmed him up turned to some sort of twisted cold nausea. _Oh, God,_ Blaine finally realized what Christmas morning meant this year. _Presents. More reasons to feel utterly indebted to Kurt's for my entire life because I don't fucking _deserve _even the smallest gift from them. _

Feeling his throat clench closed at even the _prospect_ of having someone give something to him, Blaine tried to swallow those revolting contemplations. _The only thing worse than receiving those things that I so clearly am absolutely unworthy of is me being ungrateful for them. _Luckily, Blaine didn't think that Kurt noticed the falter in his smile. _Or if he did, there was no way he even understood what caused it._ Within a few second, though, Blaine accomplished his attempt at stuffing everything to the back of his mind.

"Yes." Blaine's mouth tasted sour with the lie, yet he realized how much better at convincing Kurt he had become. Taking his boyfriend's hand in his own, Blaine hoped that his memories would leave him alone for just a little longer.

_Please… just give me enough time to make Kurt happy._

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><p>Tugging Blaine's arm after him, Kurt could feel a swell of excitement rush over him. <em>It's Christmas morning, and I get to spend it alone with Blaine. <em>Well, it wasn't exactly alone, because the rest of his family was right upstairs, separated only by the few inches that created the distinction between the ceiling of ground level and the floor of the second story. _Still, though,_ Kurt thought, _there is at least some luck in the fact that Finn didn't come bouncing down the stairs to open the presents like a child._ Really, he knew that he didn't have a right to make fun of the way that Finn reacted to celebrations, because Kurt was doing his fair share of bouncing and grinning like an idiot. _But_

As they crept down the stairs as quietly as they could, Kurt made sure that Blaine couldn't see his smile falling. There was no way the Kurt missed the haunted look that was in Blaine's eyes a moment ago, but he wasn't going to bring it up. _It's not that I'm just trying to ignore the way the Blaine is feeling, it's just that I don't think either of us could deal with that this morning._ Somewhere in his heart, Kurt felt guilty for not staring Blaine in the eyes and telling him that every time he tried to hide the little slips in his demeanor, Kurt could tell. The only problem was that if Kurt did bring it up, he knew that Blaine would only deny it all. Weeks ago, when Blaine had showed up at his door _that _night, there had only been so much that Blaine would say before he shut himself down again. Kurt knew that there was nothing more that he could do to help Blaine open up than just be there. _I will be, _Kurt told himself. _I will be there, no matter what he thinks will happen. I will always be there, right beside him, through it all._

Pulling Blaine behind him, Kurt didn't want to let go of his boyfriend's hand. He wished that somehow, through his gentle grip, he could show Blaine just how much he loved him and Blaine would actually believe every single bit of it. _But that's not going to happen,_ a little voice in the back of his head tried to remind him. It hurt that a piece of him found that to be so certain, because over all, he really didn't want to believe that. _I'm not going to believe that,_ he bit back at his thoughts. _I'm going to keep trying. There is no way I am ever going to give up on Blaine, and I'll make sure he knows that, too._

With Blaine's hand firmly held in his own, Kurt reminded himself of a promise he would never think of breaking. _I'm never going to give up on him._

They reached the living room sooner than either of them even noticed. Somehow, both of them had replaced their faltering smiles with something much more sweet, yet still sad. With one look at the Christmas tree sitting in the corner, boxes stacked underneath, Kurt could feel excitement bubbling up inside of him. In a few steps, they made their way over to the tree, and Kurt plugged it in. Multicolored lights filled the room with a soft, warm kind of light that Kurt could feel to the core of his bones despite the chill in the air. Reflecting the light, colorful yet fragile glass ornaments hung off practically every branch of the tree. What was underneath the tree, though, was even more exciting. It wasn't that there were piles and piles of boxes, but the shimmering wrapping paper just invited Kurt to hope for what was inside.

_What's inside the presents isn't really what is making me the most excited, to tell the truth, _Kurt knew. _Really, I haven't had someone to come down stairs with ever since…_ He let his thoughts trail off, unsure of how much thinking he would be able to deal with. _It's not like I need to be breaking down on Blaine. He has enough to worry about._

Then, somewhat to his own surprise, Kurt interrupted the silence with a hushed whisper. "When I was really young, my mom used to come downstairs with me every Christmas morning because I didn't have any other siblings." Slightly shocked by the little confession he had just made, Kurt tried to keep his breathing steady. "After I tore open a few of my gifts sometime before eight o'clock in the morning, she would pull me into her lap and sing Christmas carols until I fell asleep again." Kurt felt his eyes prickling at the memory, yet at the same he knew that his face must look absolutely _alive._ For years, he hadn't remembered it clearly, maybe because he always tried to block out the memories of his mother that he thought would hurt the most. Right now, though, he could practically hear the sound of songs being hummed softly and the comfort of a warm pair of arms wrapping around his small shoulders. The only real contact against his skin right now was Blaine's hand. _It's more than enough._

When he heard Blaine's unsteady voice, Kurt dragged his eyes away from the glowing tree. "My mom…" Blaine's voice wavered a little bit over those words and trailed off at the end, as if he was somehow afraid to say them. For some reason, Kurt was enraptured by Blaine's face. Light was bouncing off of the soft angles of his face, the multicolored lights tinting his olive skin different coloreds and glinting in his eyes that wouldn't stray from the tree. _But there's something else, too._ In the midst of the brokenness clearly radiating from Blaine's face, there was something that Kurt couldn't exactly put his finger on. _No…it's not exactly hope… it's more like a small ember that just wasn't fully extinguished… and I don't think that Blaine can even tell._ That was it. There was a little bit of _life_ left in him that Blaine just _could not_ see. The only problem was that there was absolutely no way that Kurt could show him.

Then, the second was over, and Blaine seemed to have found his speech again. Starting out a little bit stronger this time, though with different words, Blaine continued to whisper. "Every Christmas morning I would sneak down the stairs as quietly as I could at around midnight, afraid that the loud thrumming of my heart would give me away." Blaine's eyes were almost glazing over as he stared, most likely without even seeing, straight through the tree. There was a little voice in the back of Kurt's head that told him he should make Blaine stop before he said something he would regret. It reminded Kurt that there were things that he might not want to hear, that he just couldn't bear to listen to. The voice told him that Blaine, with that far-off look in his eyes, might not even know that he was speaking his thoughts aloud. Probably, Blaine was reliving those moments of his memory, and the little voice in the back of Kurt's head told him that maybe it was time to just _run._ Those things going on in Blaine's memory might just be too much._ Run…_

_No!_ Kurt fought back, appalled that even a small fraction of his brain would think those things. _I saw that last little spark, no matter how quickly is was gone. It was there! I'm never going to give up. I'm never going to let go of the hand in mine right now. I'm never going to run, no matter how tough it gets for me to tolerate, because I know that for Blaine, it has to be so much worse than that. He can never run away from it. He can never run away from the memories inside his own head._

Somehow, these thoughts had bombarded Kurt's brain within only a matter of seconds. Next thing he knew, Blaine's voice was ringing out again, and Kurt was forcing himself to focus. "Most of the time, I could get away with it. I was a fairly light kid, so I didn't make much noise walking around. But then there were the times when _he_ hadn't come home until an hour or to earlier than that, so he wasn't asleep." The last sentence was almost a breath of air, and Kurt strained to hear the words, but the darkness in Blaine's eyes was a dead give away. Kurt could feel himself keeping his chest tight and hardly breathing, trying to prepare himself for anything else that Blaine was going to say about his father. Really, this was the first time that Blaine had said anything else about it other than _that_ night, and for some reason it just seemed more painful. Maybe it was because both of them had been in a kind of dream like state, neither even believing it was real for hours or days or, hell, even _weeks._

Now, though, everything had finally sunk in, and there was something so raw, so _real _about not just Blaine's words, but also the expression on his face. It was as if Kurt was finally seeing a small piece of Blaine's mind and his heart, and to be honest, he was a bit terrified.

This time when Blaine spoke, his words didn't have the same harsh edge anymore. "But the other Christmas mornings, I would wait," Blaine's voice sounded as if it could crack to pieces, yet there was still no sign of tears. "I was always trying to see Santa Claus, yet I never could stay up. I would just sit under the warmth of the Christmas tree lights and wait, sometimes for only a few minutes, sometimes for hours, but I always fell asleep. Almost every time, my mother would gently wake me up not much later, telling me that Santa Claus had brought me gifts. Over the time that I had slept, about three or four gifts just materialized out of thin air." Looking over at his own pile of gifts underneath the Christmas tree, Kurt could tell that he always had received definitely more than three, and that left him with a twinge of guilt. As his voice shook slightly, Blaine continued, "My mother would watch as I quickly opened each present, with one of her happiest faces I could ever remember. As I grew older, when I brought down a present for her, too, it was kind of a tradition that we kept up. Even last year…" Blaine's words choked off into a silence that Kurt was afraid to break.

_You miss her, don't you?_ Kurt wanted to ask his boyfriend, and he wanted to tell him that he understood. _I know what that feels like. I know just how difficult it is to wake up every morning, not just on Christmas, and wanting everything to be absolutely perfect. Wanting it to be just like the year before, but knowing that past year may end up being a distant memory, almost like a dream that you can't fully remember the next morning. _

Waiting for a moment, trying to see if Blaine was going to say anything else, Kurt tried to gauge his expression. It was obvious just how hard Blaine was trying to hold together the cracks in his façade. His trembling radiated out from the core of his body and all the way down to the hand was grasped securely in Kurt's. They just stood there for a few minutes, one of them fighting to hold on as tight as he could to everything he had been building for so long, trying to keep the cap on everything he had constantly bottled up.

"Blaine?" Kurt cursed his high, weak voice. _I need to show him that I can do this, that I can be the strong one for once. In this moment, I need to take care of him, to comfort him._ Yet Kurt was still afraid, and when he tried to speak again, it came off just as feeble. "Blaine?" Untwining his finger from Blaine's, Kurt brushed his fingertips up his boyfriend's arm and rested his hand in between Blaine's quivering shoulder blades.

Kurt didn't miss the faint twitch away from his hand that Blaine gave in response, and it sent a painful chill right through his stomach. When he met Blaine's eyes, there was the familiar wall up, safeguarding all of his feelings behind the dam. "Can we just…" Blaine spoke carefully, annunciating each word as if trying to prove to himself that everything was perfect and that he wasn't going to fall apart. "Can we just open the presents now?" Gesturing towards the boxes underneath the tree, Blaine tried to put a smile on his face that didn't do a thing to fool either of them. If anything, it just made Kurt worry even more.

Yet he didn't say anything as the cold filled his chest. Kurt knew that there wasn't anything he could say right now. Stepping towards the tree and away from his boyfriend, Blaine left Kurt's hand hovering in mid-air behind him. Quickly, Kurt moved after him, catching Blaine's hand in his own again. Though there was still a chill prickling at his heart, Kurt felt a wave of relief wash through him as Blaine gave a gentle squeeze in acknowledgment.

_Someday_, Kurt knew, _Blaine just won't be able to deal with it anymore, and he's just going to break down._ That wasn't the way that Kurt wanted it, yet he knew it was true. He would do or say absolutely _anything_ if it would help. _But it won't. There is no way I can fix right now._ If it would work, Kurt would practically _force _Blaine to just let something out. _But he has to be the one to choose that, but there is no way he will until he finally just breaks, and his walls come crumbling down. _It inconceivably distressed Kurt to think about Blaine just deteriorating underneath the burden of his past. Kurt felt absolutely helpless as he gripped Blaine's hand in his own, and for the millionth time that day, he just reminded himself of the promise he wanted to say aloud to Blaine.

_I won't ever let go or give up. I swear, I'll just keep holding on._

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><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**I hope you enjoyed it! Please tell me what you think! Reviews make me absolutely ecstatic!**

**Here are some responses to my reviews:**

**annkum: Thank you so much for your review! First, I just want to say that I'm sorry for anything that you have been through. Second, you always give amazing and flattering reviews. Oh, and I really wanted to go skating after that chapter, too.**

**soratanaka: Yeah, it just seems to be getting angstier as I write it, but I'm glad that you enjoyed it!**

**boredandhomealone: I feel like the thoughts of the characters are really important to stories, and I know that all authors find a slightly different way. Thanks!**


	8. Chapter 8

**AN:**

**So, I know that I've gone a little while without updating, and I want say sorry for that. In my defense, I was gone without technology for a four day weekend, then I had midterms, and then I was sick. Something good that came out of being sick is that I actually know where the rest of this story is going! YAY! I can tell you two things. One, there will be at the very least five more chapters. Two, I promise that the next chapter coming up is going to be pretty intense.**

**Okay, I think that's all. You can go read the chapter now!**

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><p>Blaine could smell a strong waft of sweet cinnamon as Carole opened the oven door to check on the cinnamon buns baking. It was already almost twelve o'clock noon, and all of the presents were scattered across the floor with shreds of discarded wrapping paper. Earlier that morning, the memories had twisted his stomach into a jumbled mess, but at some point that had actually faded away. He wasn't certain, but Blaine figured he could attribute it to the fact that his boyfriend was exuding some sort of inescapable delight. After their heavy conversation, it had taken a bit of time before they both relaxed into easy interactions. Soon, Kurt's face was lit up with the joy of Christmas again, and he seemed intent on making in the best one that Blaine ever had. <em>He succeeded, <em>Blaine thought. _It certainly is the best Christmas that I can remember. _

Despite the slight guilt that hung over his head the fact of the Hummels spending their money to buy him Christmas presents, Blaine felt better than he had in a long time. Really, he felt _loved, _yet he was afraid to fully admit it to himself for fear that if he did, it would either disappear in an instant or have not been true at all. However, in the moment, he just let it be. It was finally something just _right, _and Blaine didn't want to mar it like he had everything else.

As he glanced over at the pale boy next to him, the strange warmth inside his heart spread even more. Texting furiously, Kurt was visibly enjoying his new phone. A grin lit up Kurt's face, and without lifting his eyes from the screen, he said, "Mercedes wants to wish us all a Merry Christmas. Here, take a look." To get a closer look, Blaine leaned into Kurt's arm. Pleasure rushed through his veins as this subtle contact drew the paler boy's attention to him. Blaine knew that Kurt's face was inches from his own, but he tried to refocus on the reason they were that close.

With one glance at the pristine screen of Kurt's new phone, Blaine let out a snort of laughter. Evidently, Mercedes had decided to send a picture of her wearing literally _every _piece of clothing that her parents gave her for Christmas. Kurt would probably drop kick Mercedes before letting her go out in the resulting outfit. She was wearing hot-pink cheetah-print boots, multi-colored striped leggings, an electric blue ruffled skirt, a sparkling silver belt, a neon-green shirt with some sort of purple flowering pattern, and last but not least, a scarf to match her belt. Below the picture, Blaine read her wishes of a merry Christmas, and her demand that Kurt send her a picture of his gifts.

"Did she say anything about it being time for brunch?" Carole's voice came from the kitchen, and Blaine quickly put a few inches in between himself and Kurt. Since he'd been at the Hummel-Hudson house, no one had called him out on getting too close to Kurt. Maybe it was because he was being more careful or they were taking pity on him, but either way, Blaine felt his heart swell at the fact that Kurt's family didn't care if he was gay or straight. They still let him live under their roof, they cooked him meals every day, and they talked to him like their own son.

Rising from the couch, Blaine moved across the room towards the lump of Finn lying asleep next to the Christmas tree. When Blaine gave him a slight nudge, Finn clutched the football in his arms tighter and rolled his head onto a new pair of skis. Shaking the sleeping boy's shoulder again, Blaine told him, "It's time for some breakfast." At that word, Finn's eyelids snapped open and he somewhat incoherently mumbled the word 'food' under his breath. "Come on," Blaine beckoned as he started towards the kitchen.

In the kitchen, Mr. Hummel had already claimed his seat and was drinking from a coffee mug while he waited patiently for Carole to serve breakfast. Blaine was the first of the boys to enter the room, but Finn wasn't far behind. As they settled in to their seats, Carole came over with a tray of cinnamon buns and a large bowl of fruit salad. "Kurt, everyone's waiting for you," she called. A moment later, he appeared around the corner, hands still swiftly typing messages to Mercedes. When he sat down at the table, though, he was polite enough to tuck it away his pocket.

The second Carole set the iced cinnamon rolls down on the table, Finn and Burt both eagerly grabbed up their share. Finn started off with two, but when Burt reached for a second one, Kurt and Carole were quick to deter him. "Burt," Carole chided, "You know you need to eat healthy."

With a frown on his face, Burt quickly retorted, "But it's Christmas morning. It's supposed to be a celebration." However, the stern look on his son's face made him retract his hand.

"We're already being lenient enough to let you have one," Kurt chimed in. "Why don't you just have some fruit salad, instead? Turning to address Carole, he added, "By the way, everything is delicious."

As Blaine took a bite of the iced roll, he completely agreed that Carole's cooking was outstanding. He tried to form words to thank her, but the sticky caramel was still filling his mouth. Instead, he just watched the effortless interactions of his boyfriend's family. Carole was teasing Kurt about being too attached to his phone, and Burt glowered longingly after the third cinnamon bun Finn was taking from the tray. All the while, Blaine just sat there, letting familiar thoughts return to his head. _I don't belong here. This is their life, not mine. I'm not supposed to be intruding on Kurt's family. They try to make each day so much better for me, yet all I am is a burden. How can Kurt even stand me?_

"Did you hear me, Blaine?" Kurt was looking at him expectantly for an answer, but Blaine hadn't been paying attention. At the shake of his boyfriend's head, Kurt gestured to the tray in the center of the table. "There's only one cinnamon roll left, and I was wondering if you wanted it."

Giving his head another shake, Blaine quickly responded, "Oh, no, it's okay." Kindly, he tried to brush off the offer. "You can have it if you want. I don't need another one."

Kurt let out a little laughter as he replied teasingly. "So you want me to get fat, do you? Why don't we at least split it? Anyways, it couldn't harm you to have a little extra to hopefully fuel your grow." Scoffing with fake annoyance, Blaine played into Kurt's joking. _It's nice to see him like this, though. With all of the crap going on in my head, sometimes I forget the way we used to be. Everything was so easy. There was nothing that we needed to talk about, we could just _be. _I miss that,_ Blaine realized with a pang of remorse. _I never thought I would have to try to be happy around Kurt. But now, I just have to keep repeating the lies until their true. We only have to deal with the easy pain, and that way I can still hold on to this relationship._

"Here you go," Kurt said, handing him the larger of the halves. Blaine let his smile linger on his lips to mirror Kurt's for just a few extra seconds, hoping that it would stay there for the day, yet knowing it wouldn't. _It is Christmas, after all. I know I don't deserve much, but aren't miracles supposed to happen on Christmas?_ Of course, he knew that that was just a silly superstition, yet he was still searching for some hope to hold onto.

"Hey, Burt," Finn said, having finished off about half of the entire meal all by himself. "There's supposed to be a Die Hard marathon running if you want to watch it." The minute that the words "Die Hard" left his stepbrother's mouth Kurt let out a sigh and rolled his eyes dramatically at Carole. Obviously, this was something that the two of them were used to commiserating over. As an afterthought Finn added, "You can come to, Blaine, I just wasn't sure if you would be interested." Truthfully, Blaine could always go for a few good explosions, but rather than get up from his seat, he just politely declined to offer. _I would rather spend the day with Kurt, and I highly doubt that he's going to be watching Die Hard._

Once Finn and Mr. Hummel had left the kitchen, Carole started cleaning up the dishes, leaving only the two boys at the table. If Kurt hadn't been using his fingers to text rapid messages, Blaine would have taken hold of his boyfriend's hand. Settling for just sliding his chair closer, Blaine let their shoulders rest against each other. _Why was I saying that I had to work at being happy around Kurt? This really can still be effortless, just as long as we don't try too hard. If I can keep all of those memories away, everything can be the same as before._

Every time that Kurt moved his fingers to hit another letter on his phone, the movement radiated all the way up to his shoulder, and Blaine could feel the slight twitches of the muscle against his own arm. "Is Mercedes still asking what you got for Christmas?" Quickly, Kurt turned his phone over so that Blaine couldn't see the screen.

"Ummm… actually," Kurt admitted, "I was sending you a message." His tongue darted over his lips before he pressed them together with an uncertain smile. That was one of those habits that Kurt never noticed doing, but Blaine found absolutely adorable.

"So…" Blaine said, "Should I go get my phone now?" The faint nod that Kurt gave him was enough to make him curious as to what his boyfriend sent him in a message. _The only problem is, I'm terrified to turn my phone on. _Ever since he had come to this house, his phone had stayed stored in the bottom of his duffel bag, right where he had thrown it in his frenzy to pack before his panic became too much to handle.

Now, though, he knew that he was supposed to face these fears. _But I'm not that strong. I'm not that courageous. The extent of my strength is just keeping these fears from Kurt, because I can't just pile any more worries on the boy I only want to make happy._ All Blaine could do was throw a weary smile to the boy sitting next to him, and get up from the kitchen table to go get his phone.

Mounting the stairs, he could feel the weakness in his knees. _What if my father called trying to find me? What if he threatened me just like he did before? _Blaine struggled to make his feet climb the stairs, but the reasons had nothing to do with being out of shape. Spinning out of control, Blaine's thoughts were growing paranoid. _Oh, God. Can he have the phone company track my location if I turn my phone on?_

Despite these thoughts causing his heart to thrum loudly in his eardrums, there was another feeling deeper down that he hadn't expected. It was… _hope?_ Somewhere inside, he held on to a hope that his mother had called him, or tried to contact him to tell him that she was okay and to make sure that he was, too.

Even though she had left him, Blaine still didn't hold it against her. _If I had the guts to do what she did, I would have… but I didn't. I'm just a pathetic boy who can't even save himself._ There was, however, a key point that he couldn't see. He _had_ gotten away, but instead of seeing that as an accomplishment, he saw it as a weakness. In reality, he knew that he had _run _away, and there was nothing brave about it.

By the time that Blaine reached his room, he had almost decided not to even look at his phone. He just didn't think he was strong enough. _But it's only a damn _cell-phone. _ It's only a piece of metal and plastic, so why am I such a wimp? Anyways, Kurt sent me a message, and it's not like I can just pretend that I read it._

Opening the closet, Blaine looked down at the duffel that he had tried to forget about. It reminded him too much of the past. Yet every time he thought that past was fading, it came back even stronger than before, until he wanted to rip his brain to shreds so that the thoughts would stop. _Stop, _he repeated to his mind, and maybe this time it would listen.

Crouching down, he ruffled through the empty fabric of his duffel bag, searching for the heavy weight of his cell phone and silently praying that it wouldn't be there just so that he didn't have to even think about the "what ifs" that plagued his mind. When his hand hit into a solid block, though, those lingering hopes faded away and his stomach was replaced with a rock of ice.

He hesitantly pressed his thumb over the power button. Those few seconds that it took for his phone to turn on went by too slowly, yet much too quickly as well. The first thing that caught his eye was the symbol alerting him that he had three new messages. _Only three messages, _the voice in his head said. _Isn't that pitiful?_ Blaine tried to remind himself that Kurt was the main one who used to text him, and that there wasn't a need for that now that they were living under the same roof, but it didn't help. In the end, he realized that it would be better to just stop stalling, because it only caused the pressure in his chest to keep building until he couldn't take a proper breath of air.

Before he could lose his nerve, Blaine pressed the button to see his messages. With each text that he read, his chest loosened a little bit more. The first was from Wes, asking if he wanted to meet up at the Lima Bean sometime soon. It was dated from a few weeks ago, so Blaine figured Wes wouldn't mind waiting just a little bit longer for a response. Right now, Blaine wasn't really up to answering, and he still had two more texts to go. He knew for certain that one of them was from Kurt, yet he was still terrified about the third one.

Knowing that his father was more likely to send a drunken voicemail than a text gave him a little bit more confidence, yet he still couldn't predict his father's actions, no matter how hard he tried. A small hope was alive in his heart, though, that his mother might have texted him. _She could have… right? _

When he opened up the next message and felt his heart twist with both relief and regret, he knew he was wrong. _She left me all alone with my father,_ Blaine reminded himself as he stared emotionlessly at Wes's name repeated on the screen in a second text message. _It's not like she cared for me enough to even send a text message. She probably wanted to just leave that life behind her and start over. Maybe this time she wouldn't be as screwed up by the results._

Hardly skimming the words in Wes's text, Blaine didn't even comprehend it. Honestly, he almost didn't care at the moment. Yeah, it did produce a small feeling in him, but he didn't want to even think about it. He just wanted to read Kurt's text and be done with it. He just wanted to drop his phone back into his bag and forget about it. He just wanted to forget all of the crap that had happened… or was it that he wanted to remember the good things? He didn't even know anymore.

Numbing his thoughts and feelings inside, Blaine moved on to Kurt's message. For a minute, as he read it, there was a rush of something through his whole body. It made him remember how, when he first met Kurt, their texts would be the highlights of his day.

_Courage, _Kurt's text read. _Please, if it's the only thing you remember. Courage… just like you taught me._

Within moments, the _something_ that had been inside of Blaine was gone, and he was left staring at the phone in his hands. The word courage was haunting him, because he knew that he didn't have it. No matter how much Kurt thought of Blaine as his courageous savior, Blaine knew better. He knew the truth. He was just a weak, pathetic boy that used to wake up every day thinking that it would be better, and going to bed every night knowing that if anything, it was worse.

And all he was left with was this. Some sort of relief that his father hadn't killed him yet, and an impractical hope that his mother might still come back for him.

_But neither of them care, either way. He doesn't hate me enough, and she doesn't love me enough. I'm just nothing._

_Who would really care if I just didn't exist anymore? Would anyone care if they just woke up one morning and I was gone?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**Please tell me what you thought! Reviews make me insanely happy!**

**Here are some responses to the reviews I got:**

**annkum:**

**I just love your reviews! I hope that their thoughts aren't too confusing to anyone else. As you can tell by this point, Blaine didn't really fall asleep, but I promise that in the next few chapters some stuff is going down! **

**boredandhomealone:**

**Thanks for the review! Heartbreaking is probably a really good word to describe the majority of this fic. **


	9. Chapter 9

**AN:**

**The song in this chapter is "Down" by Jason Walker. I think that the first song I had Blaine sing was also by him, so you probably think I am obsessed with him, but honestly I didn't even know of him until I was searching for a song for Blaine to sing. It's a great song, so it would be nice if you listened to it when Blaine sings it. **

**Here is a link:**

**www . youtube . com / watch?v=pzaJideqGBg&feature=related **

**(Just take out the spaces.)**

**Warnings:**** Violence/abuse in flashbacks and severe negative internal dialogue**

* * *

><p>The shadowy ceiling seemed like it was collapsing and the blank white walls were closing in. All of the oxygen was slowly disappearing from the room as Blaine continued to lay in bed, motionless with his eyes wide and staring into blackness.<p>

Blaine couldn't sleep.

He didn't _want _to sleep.

When he closed his eyes, he knew he would have to live through those memories again, and every time they just seemed to get worse. Every time, he could remember it in even more detail; so much so that that the memories were beginning to encroach on his waking thoughts, instead of just his dreams.

So, the most he could do was just try not to fall asleep.

As he clenched his hands into fists, Blaine's mind stopped thinking about the dreams, and instead began to worry about something else. In his palm, he could feel the cold hardness of the cell phone that he had grasped in his hand every night for the past couple of weeks since Christmas. It still brought him the same dread and hope that it had at first, and somehow he couldn't bear to have it apart from him. _What if I miss something? What if _she_ calls me and I don't have my phone?_

But then there were the times when he wanted to throw his phone against the pavement, to hammer it to smithereens. _Because, what if _he _calls?_ That was the thought that caused the air to get stuck on the lump in his throat and refuse to go down. He was choking on his thoughts, unable to escape them.

Blaine rolled over and buried his face into his pillow. Forcing himself to inhale, vanilla flooded into his mouth. At the scent, he felt a small release in his chest. _Kurt,_ Blaine thought. He knew it would be embarrassing if the other boy found out, but Blaine had taken to using Kurt's beauty products on his pillowcases so that, he wouldn't be quite so afraid at night. When he woke up from his memories, unsure of whether they were real or not, he could catch a breath of vanilla and know that Kurt was there for him, even if they weren't in the same room.

However, tonight it wasn't enough. No matter how strongly Blaine tried to convince himself that he was going to be all right because Kurt was with him, he couldn't pretend. _It's not "all right." _Blaine's thoughts had venom in them. _I hate that phrase. Nothing is "all right" anymore, all I am is wrong. All I am is broken. Kurt deserves so much more than this, he deserves the perfect boyfriend. All I am is a faggot-_

Biting down hard on his tongue to keep himself from emitting a tearless sob, Blaine could taste the metallic sting of blood, but he didn't care. _No! I'm not supposed to say those things! I won't turn into my father! I just can't! _

His thoughts were just too much, and the scent of vanilla wasn't enough to make it even tolerable. Unsure of what would help, all Blaine knew was that he needed something more. Just lying in bed, alone with his thoughts was too much. Maybe he needed Kurt right by his side, helping him to pull through it, but it was the middle of the night.

_There has to be something else. What kept me going forward before I met Kurt?_ Wracking his brain, Blaine tried his hardest to recollect, but he couldn't recall how he used to hold on to small seconds of happiness. Then he remembered.

_Music. That's what I need right now. _Without Kurt, the things that kept him going were his mother and music. _And all I'm left with right now is music._

Before his changed his mind, Blaine quickly threw the blankets off of him. As he silently padded across the floor, he felt a chill run its way up his back. Without the barrier of a blanket, the winter air raised the hairs on his bare arms. _It's not important,_ Blaine thought bitterly. _I've been through so much more than just feeling cold._

Without a sound, he made his way down the hallway, thankful that everyone else in the house slept with their door closed. When he came to the room that Kurt had shown him on his birthday, Blaine stopped. _I shouldn't do this, _he thought as he opened the door. _Someone might hear me, and I don't want to wake any of them up._

Nevertheless, he stepped through the doorway, because he didn't know what to do if not sing. _There's nothing else I can do._ So, he carefully shut the door behind him, hoping that it would be enough to muffle the noise of the piano.

Sitting at the piano bench, Blaine gently positioned his fingers over the keys, afraid to make a sound. _I shouldn't do this. It was his mother's piano, and it means so much to him. I don't deserve to even touch this piano. _He was about to remove his hands from the piano when he realized that he had nothing other than that right now, and he couldn't bear to think of trying to continue without anything. _It's all I have right now._

As softly as he could, Blaine increased the pressure on the keys until the first note echoed off the bare walls. Wincing at how loud it was, Blaine hoped that the walls were thick enough to stifle the sound. Quietly, he let his voice come out in a whisper as he uttered the first few words of the song his fingers were already playing the melody for.

_I don't know where I'm at  
>I'm standing at the back<br>And I'm tired of waiting  
>Waiting here in line, hoping that I'll find what I've been chasing.<em>

Letting his voice grow to fill the room, Blaine stopped caring if anyone heard. What he needed right now was this small release, this small confession.

_I shot for the sky  
>I'm stuck on the ground<br>So why do I try, I know I'm gonna fall down  
>I thought I could fly, so why did I drown?<br>Never know why it's coming down, down, down.  
><em>

Blaine knew his voice was choking up, but he just kept trying to get the words out. Tears were filling his eyes, and his vision was blurring, but he didn't care. He didn't need his vision, all he had to do was keep his fingers moving and his voice quivering through the lyrics.

_I'm not ready to let go  
>Cause then I'd never know<br>What I could be missing  
>But I'm missing way too much<br>So when do I give up, what I've been wishing for.  
><em>

When Kurt was with him, Blaine just wanted to keep trying, hoping to one day find at least a warped sort of happiness. _But I don't find anything. _

_I shot for the sky  
>I'm stuck on the ground<br>So why do I try, I know I'm gonna fall down  
>I thought I could fly, so why did I drown?<br>I'll never know why it's coming down, down, down.  
>Oh I am going down, down, down<br>Can't find another way around  
>And I don't want to hear the sound, of losing what I never found.<br>_

Blaine hated it. He hated that he thought he was actually going to be happy with Kurt's family. He hated that he thought everything was going to be better once he was here. He hated that nothing was. He hated himself.

_I shot for the sky  
>I'm stuck on the ground<br>So why do I try, I know I'm gonna fall down  
>I thought I could fly, so why did I drown?<br>I never know why it's coming down, down, down._

Blaine didn't know why he just kept trying. _How much longer can I keep going? Everything just keeps crumbling to pieces, and once it's shattered it can't be put back together. Why do I keep trying to fix myself? _His questions were resonating inside his brain, just like his voice through the empty room.

_I shot for the sky  
>I'm stuck on the ground<br>So why do I try, I know I'm gonna fall down  
>I thought I could fly, so why did I drown?<br>I'll never know why, it's coming down, down, down._

Blaine let his fingers linger on the keys as the last note left a residual echo in the room. Salty drops were trickling down around the sides of his face and slipping off of his chin, falling like rain onto the piano. Breathing was impossible, because every time he tried, he felt like something was broken. Having broken bones was something that Blaine was familiar with, no matter how much he wished otherwise, but this was different.

This was a brokenness that just kept growing, no matter what Blaine did to try to stop it. It was slowly filling him up, one drop at a time, until he was drowning inside. Until he was suffocating with the weight threatening to collapse his lungs. Until the tears were streaming down his face.

He was sick of trying to be all right, because he knew that everything was all wrong. It was time for him to stop the constant struggle with his memories. _Why do I keep trying to hold them off? I know that they'll come, so why do I try?_

Torrents of tears coursed down his cheeks and his head swam with the weight of his thoughts. Bringing his head down to his hands, Blaine rested his cheek against the cool ivory keys. He didn't care that the piano emitted a mess of notes at the weight of his head. He didn't care that the keys were wet with the salty liquid leaking from his eyes. He just _didn't care._

_Trying is so difficult, I just don't think I can do it anymore._ Blaine knew that this was the last thing he had ever wanted to do, but he couldn't keep pretending. _I give up._

So he let his memories engulf him, plummeting him into a nightmare state.

* * *

><p>Blaine's feet pounded against the sidewalk with every step he took, pain radiating through his bones and throbbing at his temples. Last night, his father had gotten really angry, which meant that today, Blaine was feeling the effect. Honestly, though, he hadn't received the brunt of it, his mother had. No matter how much he hated the pain, he knew that he would much less be able to tolerate the way his mother was treated last night. <em>No, <em>Blaine attempted to stop his thoughts. _I don't need this right now. I can't deal with this right now. _His throat was already closing up, but he had to just get home.

Heavy with the weariness of the day, his feet dragged against the ground like dead weights. Glee club had run late, almost until five o'clock in the afternoon. They were working on a big number with elaborate costumes, but he didn't mind. Just as long as he could spend the time with Kurt, everything was fine.

At least, that was, until he had to go home.

Again, Kurt had offered to drive him, and again, Blaine refused. _There's no way I can let him. What if he decides to come in? What if my father comes home?_ Instead, he made up some far-fetched lie about having to make up a math test. _I can't tell him the truth._

Waiting until everyone left, Blaine had to make sure that no one knew that he was really walking home after Glee club. If he had known ahead of time, there would have been a faint possibility that he could have gotten away with driving one of his father's extra cars to school. However, even that was doubtful.

The walk only took a bit over an hour, and the weather was fairly warm for late fall. Still, he had wrapped his scarf a little tighter around his neck and walked a little faster in an attempt to keep the cold from penetrating too deep.

By now, he was almost home. Picking up his pace, Blaine knew that his house was right down the street from where he was right now. Just a few minutes passed before he was standing on the doorstep, twisting his key in the lock. As he opened to door, he was greeted by nothing.

All that he heard was silence.

_That's kind of… strange?_ On one hand, Blaine was comforted by the silence, because it meant that his father was not there, but on the other, it made him even jumpier. Silence made him let down his guard, yet at the same time he felt as if at any second, his father would appear behind him, catching him unaware. Sometime when his mother thought he was old enough to be left alone at the house for just a little while, Blaine had realized this paranoia for the first time. Since then, whenever his house was dead quiet, he felt the need to check every room to make sure he was really alone before letting down his guard.

That reminded him, where was his mother? _She said that she would be home tonight, _Blaine recalled. His mind didn't linger on that thought for too long, though, because he started making his sweep through the house.

The bottom floor was easy to check, most of it was just open space without a lot of doors. On the second floor, Blaine had found out that checking all of the extra bedrooms and bathrooms easily became tedious. _It's worth it. Otherwise, I'll never know if I really can just relax._ His parents' room was the last one he checked. Really, the reason was that he didn't want to go in there, knowing that it was the most likely place to find his father.

As fast as he could, just to get it over with, Blaine yanked open the door. What met his eyes wasn't the neat and orderly room that it normally was. Instead it was a wreck. Clothes were strewn across the floor and hanging out of dresser drawers that had been thrown open. _Something isn't right. _The bed was unmade, blankets scrunched all the way to the foot of the bed. _She always makes the bed. _At this point, Blaine was starting to worry. Heart pounding heavily inside his chest, he took a few steps into the room to survey the damage.

This was the worst he had ever seen the room, and he needed to find a clue to tell him that everything was okay. _There must be something that lets me know she is safe._

Stepping even further into the room, there _was_ something that caught his eye. On the nightstand sat a carefully sealed envelop with Blaine's name printed across it in the large, scrolling handwriting of his mother.

_Oh, God, no._ Despite the fact that the last thing he wanted to do was read that letter, his feet seemed to be propelled towards it, moving of their own accord. Standing by the nightstand, he took the envelop in his trembling hands. _It's so light… there's just one paper in it._ But that paper must have been important, because it was causing his whole body to shake in fear of what might be. _No, no, it can't be…there must be other reasons to leave a note…_

However, Blaine couldn't think of another reason. The letter was almost teasing him at this point, and he knew what he had to do.

Coming in small gasps, his breath was getting harder to hold on to. As quickly and painlessly as he could, Blaine ripped open the top of the sealed envelope. He just couldn't breath anymore, he _couldn't_, because if he tried he knew that it would break him down. If he tried to inhale, it would just cause him to crumble.

_But it won't be…it can't be…she wouldn't…_ Yet Blaine wasn't sure what his mother was capable of. _Maybe she was stronger than I thought… maybe she decided to do what I couldn't…_

There was only one way to find out.

Gradually easing the letter out of the envelope, Blaine's hands were tremulous. _But knowing is better than not…even if it is more painful,_ he tried to lie to himself, because really, isn't ignorance bliss?

Now that the letter was open, there was no going back. Unfolding it, Blaine forced his eyes to stay open and to see the words on the page.

It was hardly a paragraph. Just mere sentences.

_Dear Blaine,_

_By the time you are reading this, I will be gone. _

For just a moment, his heart turned to ice in his chest. For just a moment, he thought that his fears had been confirmed, that his mother was dead. Within seconds, his eyes were already straying away from the first sentence to read the rest of the letter.

_To tell you the truth, though, I don't know where exactly I will be. I'm so sorry for just packing and leaving without any notice, but I just couldn't take it anymore, it just finally reached too much. I had to leave, there was no way I could stay there anymore, and I couldn't keep living like that._

_I'm so sorry that I just left you there. If I find a home, wherever I am, I promise I'll come back for you._

_I will love you forever, my son, no matter what. _

_Mom_

Blaine could feel something wet and warm streaming down his cheeks, yet at the same time there was an anger coiling up in his stomach. _My mother just left me here to be tortured daily. She left me without the slightest warning and just _ran. _I don't even matter enough to be saved by my own mother. _Inside, he believed that what he was saying was true. _I'm just a dog for my father to kick when he gets home._

Nevertheless, there was a fraction of his heart that was relieved. _She didn't kill herself. What she did was so much stronger than that. What she did was something that I could never do. _Ultimately, she had saved herself when Blaine failed to do so. _I'll never be able to run, all I am is a wimp. _So, he just stood there, the letter open in his hands and the tears dripping from his chin, one by one.

Hours later, he was still standing there, rehashing the same thoughts. He didn't move for dinner or anything else. Shaking, he just stood there until his legs felt like they were going to give under the weight of everything.

But then, the sound of a car door slamming shut outside reached his ears. It wasn't until the front door opened with a pop that the noise even connected in his brain.

His father was home.

_Do… something! Move, dammit, move! Run, like she did! Run! _But he couldn't. He was just a weak, pathetic, _faggot_ who wasn't courageous enough. All Blaine could do was continue to stand there, immobilized with horror. It was as if he feet were glued to the carpet, because no matter how strongly he urged them to _move_ they wouldn't budge.

_Oh, God. He's going to come up here. He's going to know that she's gone. He's going to know that I'm the only one left. He's going to…_ Blaine's thoughts were moving at warp speed, but he had no idea what he father would do. The only thing he knew was that it was going to be bad.

Stairs creaked under his father's weight, but Blaine couldn't move. Heart racing and breath sealed out of his lungs, all Blaine could do was wait. Wait for the yelling. Wait for the pain. Just… _wait._

The door to his parents' room was like an open mouth from when he had flung it open, just waiting for his father to look through it and see. Then, his father was right there, in the doorway. Something like confusion flickered through his drunken eyes before they filled with the flame of anger instead. _Why do my eyes have to be that same, disgusting color? I hate it!_

Exploding, his father broke the silence, the calm before the storm. "What the hell 're you doin', _faggot_?" Despite the slurring voice, the last word was pronounced crystal clear. Within the second that it took for Blaine to make his eyes blink, his father had come across the room, standing inches from him. _Move, dammit. Run!_

But he couldn't. All he could do was stand there, waiting for the pain.

Alcohol filled his nostril as his lungs screamed at him to finally take a breath, and he practically gagged on the rank scent. "What's tha'?" He growled, and Blaine flinched as his father ripped the paper from between his stiff felt like there was nothing inside of him as he watched the emotions flash through his father's face. First, it was a sort of disbelief, then, his rage flared up higher than before.

Blaine should have been terrified, he should have been panicking, he should have running.

But something had broken, and inside, he had _nothing_.

…

All he could do was wait for the pain that he deserved.

"Where 's she, you bastard?" His father spat the words harshly at Blaine's face. With the next shout, Blaine felt rough fingers digging into his arms. " 'least say somethin'!"

But he couldn't. Nothing was coming from his mouth, and the thoughts had frozen in his brain.

…

"Dammit, you faggot!" The first blow hit him in the temple, making his eyesight swim and his legs stagger backwards. Somehow, he still managed to stay upright, standing with something that most definitely was _not _courage.

It was defeat. He was giving up. He didn't care what his father did to him. He didn't care if he lived anymore. He didn't care.

…

Knuckles connected with his jaw and he could hear a popping sound. Warmth dripped down his bottom lip, rolling over his chin and down his neck. But he didn't care. The hard sole of a shoe dug into his leg, collapsing it beneath him as he fell to the ground, slamming hard down on his kneecaps. Another kick, and this time it was the toe of the shoe that hooked up under his ribs, knocking out any last wisps of air lingering in his lungs.

But he didn't care about the pain. He _deserved _it. Because there was nothing left inside.

…

Ripping hairs from Blaine's head, his father's fingers twisted in the curls, yanking him from the ground. Standing once more, Blaine could feel the muscles in his legs trying to give out under him, but he forced them to stay for just a little bit longer.

… _It won't be too much longer now…_

Hands were crushing his skull as his father leaned in close to whisper one last sentence with strangely flawless enunciation.

"I will _kill _you tonight, faggot, you don't deserve to live a moment longer."

Echoing in his hollow head, Blaine knew that they were true.

_I shouldn't still be alive. _

_All I am is a coward and a faggot. _

_I deserve to die._

_I _want _to die. _

But then, with the scent of alcohol sharpening his thoughts, one last thought struck his brain, stopping his heart and filling the emptiness inside of him.

…_Kurt…_

_Kurt… Kurt. Kurt. Kurt! KURT! _

_Why didn't I talk to him one last time? _

_Why didn't I tell him that he was perfect? _

_Why didn't I tell him I loved him? _

_Why didn't I tell him I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him?_

Suddenly, a fist was swinging at he head again. But this time, Blaine moved. Stumbling backwards, Blaine dodged the blow. Fury burned in his father's eyes at the fact that he missed, and he quickly advanced towards Blaine. And again, Blaine moved.

Or at least, he tried to. The only problem was the nightstand digging into his back, blocking him from moving as his father drew closer.

_No! No! No! _His whole body was shrieking at him to _move,_ but now that he finally wanted to, there was nowhere to go. He was trapped, his father closing the distance with every step. Lips curled back over yellowed teeth, his father was smirking, because he knew that Blaine couldn't escape.

_Kurt… I'm going to die, and then I won't be able to tell you any of that._

His father swung again, this time determined to make contact, and he wasn't disappointed. As the fist connected with his brow, Blaine felt the impact throw him backwards, and he flailed wildly, knocking the nightstand over and spewing its contents across the already wreaked carpet. Scrambling on his hands, Blaine could see his father towering over him, the shape of a lamp framed by his thick hands.

_This is it…this is the end._

As he kept struggling away on the ground, he tried not to imagine the porcelain of the lamp shattering over his head, lodging small pieces into his head, but it was impossible. Because he knew that in seconds, exactly that was going to happen.

_Kurt… I love you._

Then, his hand touched something cold and hard. _Metal. Car keys. _For a second, he had imagined that it was a knife, but then he realized that he would never be able to raise a knife against his father and actually win.

But keys… they were a way out. They were his last hope.

Tightening his fingers, Blaine didn't care that the teeth of the keys were digging into his palm. He just held on, and hoped that somehow they would be able to save his life. Because without keys, he could run, but his father would always be quicker.

However, with a car it was possible… even if it only gave him a slight chance.

Suddenly, he saw as his father's arms crashed downwards, catapulting the lamp towards him. With a streak of adrenaline coursing through his veins, Blaine rolled to the side out of instinct. Right beside his ear, the lamp shattered deafeningly against the floor, so close that he could feel the air rush by and the fragments of porcelain ricochet off his back.

Before he stopped to even _think _about it for a fraction of a second, Blaine kicked his leg out, hooking it around his father's ankle and pulling until the heavy weight plummeted and shook the ground. Pushing his body up quickly with his hand still clutching the keys, Blaine found his unsteady footing.

On those trembling legs, he ran, hoping that they would last him long enough to get to where he needed. His heart was hammering in his ears, but through that noise, he could swear that he heard pounding footsteps following him.

_Run. Run! RUN!_

Staggering down the stairs, Blaine dreaded falling headfirst to the ground. Something must have been on his side, because before he knew it, his legs were running on flat ground again. Trembling hands used all the power in them to yank the front door open, because the footsteps were growing louder behind him.

Frozen air rushed down his throat, scraping it raw, but Blaine just kept moving until his body connected with the solid metal of a car in the driveway. Wildly, he searched for the handle until his hand found the notch in the door. Hoping that it was unlocked, he pulled, yet the door didn't budge. With fumbling fingers, Blaine shoved the first key on the ring into the lock and tugged again.

Still nothing.

The front door slammed shut and Blaine caught a glimpse of his father's figure in the moonlight. _Shit!_

His palms were sweating as he tried to fit the second key in the lock, praying that it was the right one, because if it wasn't… if it wasn't…

Gears clicked into place and the car door swung open, almost knocking Blaine to the ground. Jumping into the driver's seat, he pulled the door shut behind him, slamming his fist against the buttons on it and hoping that he hit the lock button.

Honestly, he didn't care very much about whether the door was locked or not. All he needed to do was get the key into the ignition and start the car. For such an easy task, it was proving much more difficult than usual because of the tremors that kept rolling through Blaine's entire body.

Suddenly the key turned and the car roared to life, blinding his father in the headlights. Shifting the car into reverse, Blaine forced his foot down on the gas pedal as hard as he could and the car protested with a low, reverberating rumble. Finally, it jerked into motion, and the car bumped over the curb in Blaine's rush to get it out of his drive way.

Switching the car into drive, Blaine hurtled down the street, away from his father. _Oh, God, did I make it? _The only thing he could do was hope that his father hadn't grabbed another set of keys and was following him at that very minute. But even if he wasn't, Blaine knew one thing.

Even if it wasn't today, he knew that his father was going to come for him eventually. Then, Blaine would get what he deserved.

Death.

* * *

><p>Flinging himself away from the piano, Blaine caused the keys to let out a horrible tone as the bench toppled over backwards. His heart was pounding against his ribs, trying to force its way out of his chest, and his breath was coming in huge gasps.<p>

_Oh, God, I'm going to be sick._

Though there was nothing in his stomach, Blaine could feel his abdomen contracting, trying to rid his body of his memories.

_I need to get out,_ Blaine realized. The room was suffocating him, turning his insides out, collapsing on him. He just _had _to _get out._ Fighting his way across the room, his body slammed into the door. Clammy hands slipped over the doorknob before finally yanking it open.

He thought that the air in the hallway was going to be better, but it wasn't. If anything, it was more stifling, and he could feel his head spinning with the pressure. So, he kept his feet moving, not even caring that his heels were thudding loudly against the ground.

His stomach gave another lurch, and Blaine hoped that he didn't throw up all over the carpet of the hallway. Then, he felt the cold tile of the bathroom floor and he fell to his knees. With his burning hands, he found the cold ceramic of the toilet and pulled himself towards it.

Letting his head hang over the rim, he tried to force the sour bile from his stomach, but nothing came out. His shoulder's shook with a dry heave, but he couldn't expel anything from his stomach.

All of his memories were still trapped inside his head, and he just couldn't handle them anymore.

Somehow, he managed to drag himself to a standing position, but then he found himself face to face with his reflection. The hideous, pathetic, _faggot_ stared back at him with those same mud brown eyes of his father, and Blaine just wanted to shatter the mirror under his fist.

But he didn't. _Because I'm just a weak faggot who doesn't deserve to be alive._

Instead, he found his quaking hands pulling open the cabinet and rummaging around until they came out with a bottle.

Pressing down on the safety lid and twisting, Blaine easily popped the bottle open despite the unsteadiness of his entire body.

_Safety lid,_ Blaine thought with revolting satire. _The only people who need them to be safe are the ones who effortlessly know how to open them. _

Tilting the bottle on its side, Blaine poured the pills into his hand. They were surprisingly light, yet it felt like they were burning a hole in his palm.

_How many would it take? Ten? Twenty? Fifty? _

_I don't care. I'll just keep swallowing until it's enough. _

_Until I don't have the memories anymore. _

_Until I get what I deserve. _

Lifting his hand up to his mouth, Blaine let the first cold pills slip through his burning lips, finally bringing him some sense of reassurance.

_Until I kill myself._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**TBC**

**Please don't kill me, just leave reviews.**

**Here are some responses to the reviews I got last time:**

**mid-morning rain:**

**Well, I'm pretty sure you got a Blaine breakdown. I hope you like it!**

**booksandmusicandmusicandbooks:**

**I'm glad you enjoy it, and of course I am going to keep writing!**

**bremela:**

**Trust me, I've read a lot of really in depth stories, but I'm glad you liked it! I feel like their thoughts really add something to it that I think is necessary.**

**xSlythStratasfaction:**

**Yeah, there are some pretty harsh thoughts… especially in this chapter. I hope none of my readers kill me.**


	10. Chapter 10

**AN:**

**I'm really sorry that this took as long as it did. You know those weeks when the world just seems to have a personal grudge against you? Yeah, it was one of those. Even when I did have time to write, it just wouldn't come out right. It still isn't exactly what I was hoping for, but…**

**Well, here it is.**

**Oh, and happy early Valentine's Day. For the past two years I have finally had a valentine! The only pathetic thing about that is that I'm basing that idea on the promise that Darren Criss/ Blaine Anderson made. "Now every February, you'll be my valentine."**

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><p>Kurt must have fallen asleep with his iPod playing… again. Sometime in the middle of the night, he found himself suspended in limbo between a dream world and real life. His ears pricked with the sound of music, and without even bothering to flash his eyes open he swiped his hand right under his neck in a common move that generally caught the wires of his ear buds and pulled them from his ears.<p>

But there wasn't anything there. His fingers didn't touch anything other than just his neck. That was when he realized that the piano music he heard was coming through the wall behind his head. _It must be a dream,_ his brain somewhat coherently concluded. Of course he had dreamed of music before, so it wasn't a strange occurrence.

Either way, trying to make his brain function on such little sleep just wasn't working. Instead, Kurt let fragments of lyrics float through his brain, twining into a dream that he would probably forget by the next morning.

_So why do I try, I know I'm gonna fall down,_

_I thought I could fly, so why did I drown?_

_It's coming down, down, down._

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><p>Limbs lurching off his bed and eyelids snapping open, Kurt's body awoke with a spasm. <em>What was that sound?<em> His subconscious jumped to the question before his brain had a moment to process what was going on.

Resting a hand over his ribs, Kurt tried to force his lungs to stop stealing such huge gasps of air. From the way his heart was leaping around in his chest, it was obvious that _something_ had happened, whether it was just in his mind or not. When he finally managed to take a breath that didn't sound like he had just run a mile, Kurt was able to make the gears in his mind move slow enough to actually think.

_Of course, it was just a dream, _he realized almost instantly. It wasn't that odd, honestly. Kurt's dreams hadn't been particularly pleasant lately, but he didn't need to complain. All he needed to do was wake up every morning to ascertain that his boyfriend was still there. He just had to make sure that Blaine wasn't back with his father. And every morning, Kurt let the wave of relief wash over him and he pressed a small peck on each cheek of his boyfriend. Despite the fact that every morning Kurt couldn't shake the feeling that there was something missing, the former Warbler was still there, safe. And that was all Kurt needed… _right?_

Still, there was a part of Kurt that wanted his boyfriend to confide in him. He wanted Blaine to share the memories that were hidden in the hopeless past, knowing full well just how painful it might be.

However, every time that Blaine's face turned to stone and his eyes reflected back the wild look of a trapped animal, he only closed himself off more. _It's not like I haven't tried,_ Kurt reminded himself. _I have tried. I've tried so hard. _Still, the other boy hadn't been able to share his thoughts, even when Kurt's arms were wrapped around him and that high, lilting voice was whispering that it was more than okay to speak. All Blaine could do was press his lips together and blink his eyes rapidly, telling his boyfriend that everything was just fine.

_Why am I even thinking about this right now? Just go back to sleep,_ the weary boy tried to instruct his body. Forcing his eyelids closed, Kurt figured his heavy mind would fall back into the fog of sleep that still lingered. Seconds later, though, he was gazing around his room, the small light of his clock somehow seeming bright enough to be sunlight. Drowsiness tugged at him, but somehow he couldn't release the tension from his constricted muscles. Thoughts of Blaine were beginning to spin in his head again, and all he wanted to do was just stop worrying.

_Just go back to sleep! _He wished he could, but simply wishing didn't seem to be accomplishing much. As he rolled over and the sheets twisted uncomfortable around him, Kurt pulled with a strong yank, sending them off the side of his bed. Everything seemed to be frustrating him right now, and even though he hadn't quite figured out why, he assumed it probably had to do with a dream he couldn't quite recall. There was something that he felt like he was supposed to remember from the night before, but he was still so tired that his brain wasn't processing anything.

_I should just go to the bathroom, get a glass of water, and then try to sleep again. Maybe when I wake up in the morning I'll remember, but right now I just can't think. _

Bleary eyed, Kurt slipped out of bed and blindly grappled for the door to find his way out of the room. Moving down the hallway, he didn't notice that Blaine's bedroom door was wide open, but it wouldn't have really mattered if he had. Nearing the bathroom, Kurt heard a sound that he assumed was just the shifting of the house against the wind outside. As he nudged the bathroom door open with his toes, a small sliver of light from the hallway fell through the doorway.

It was enough to cause his heart to spasm in his chest at the shadow figure standing there. "Oh!" Kurt let out a small puff of air in surprise, recognizing the boy only a second later. "Blaine," he gasped with a laugh, trying to calm his heart.

Instantly, the eyes that had been turned downward flicked up to reflect the dull glow of the lamp in the hallway. Panic surged through Blaine's features as his body jolted with something Kurt didn't know how to describe. _…dread? _With this terse movement, something slipped from Blaine's trembling hold, and for the fraction of a second before the object hit the floor, Kurt struggled to understand.

It was as if the bottle was shattering on the ground, pills raining down on their bare feet as the plastic container bounced across the tile floor and finally rolled to a stop. Kurt's brain should have registered the fact that the number of pills was only a scarce few as compared to how many should have been in the bottle, but it was a fact that he didn't want to comprehend.

Somehow, all the pieces still weren't coming together. That haze covering Kurt's brain with sleep was beginning to dissipate, but now he didn't want to let it go.

…_no…no…no…no…no…_

The petrified look on Blaine's face sent a shiver of fear up the nape of Kurt's neck and left a sickening cold in his stomach.

"Blaine?" Kurt's voice crackled, coming out with the brokenness that he didn't even know was inside. "Are you okay?"

_Oh, God… please…_

Adam's apple bobbing, Blaine made another attempt to swallow. For some reason, when he finally found his voice, the words came out in a rasping whisper. "I'm fine. I just had a headache." Kurt almost found himself laughing at the blatant lie that Blaine's empty eyes were pleading him to believe.

But he couldn't, because he knew the truth. Oh, God, he _knew._

_No… No… No… No! No! No!_

_How can it be true?_

Honestly, he didn't need to ask that question, because the answer was clear in the other boy's face. The _pain_ that Blaine had masked for so long was now raw on his face, unable to be hidden any longer.

It seemed as if Blaine's legs were giving out beneath him, and the fragile boy dropped to his knees. Instantly, Kurt tried to step forwards and catch him, but paralysis squeezed at his legs. _Why can't I do anything? I need to help him!_ Still, he couldn't make himself do anything.

Blaine's dilated pupils had overtaken the brown of his eyes, yet his fear was disappearing as they stared up at Kurt with an apology. "Kurt," his voice broke, not with pain, but instead with sorrow. Some kind of disconnection was seeping its way into Blaine's features, seizing Kurt's windpipes. "No one was… you weren't… supposed to see this… supposed find me…" Blaine's quavering words shot an icy dagger right through Kurt's heart, only serving to confirm the fears he wouldn't let himself believe. "This was supposed to be the end."

_No! No! No! Don't say that!_

However, Blaine's words just kept coming, and Kurt felt his insides crumbling. Everything was coming apart, and he still couldn't do anything; he still couldn't make his mind work. "I'm so sorry for everything… I'm so sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry..." At the choked, tearless sob that escaped Blaine's tightened chest, Kurt found his own eyes pooling with the tears that his boyfriend couldn't seem to shed. "There's so much that I wanted to say to you, I just… I just don't know how much more time…"

Kurt had to say _something._ He had to stop the shaking boy from going any farther, because he didn't think he could handle it. "Don't say that, Blaine… please. We have all the time in the world." Even to his own ears, the lie sounded feeble.

_Oh, God, what am I supposed to do? I don't think I can do this. I'm not that strong…_

_No!_

_I can be strong enough for Blaine. I can be strong enough for both of us. I _need _to be strong enough for both of us._

_Otherwise… otherwise…_

"Kurt," the other boy broke his thoughts with a whisper that seemed to echo around the stagnant room. "Will you do one thing for me?" _Everything, Blaine, I'll do everything I can for you. _Kurt wanted to tell him, but when he opened his mouth the words couldn't make their way out. With the wetness of tears choking him, the sounds only stuck in his throat. Settling for just a nod, Kurt hoped that that was enough, at the same time knowing that anything he was doing wasn't enough. _I haven't done enough for Blaine. Everything I've done hasn't been enough. If it were, everything would be okay. Then, Blaine wouldn't have…_

For a moment, the thoughts in his mind blurred around the edges and he couldn't even begin to fathom what to do. "Kurt," the familiar voice uttered, reflections of light shimmering in those dark eyes. "Will you please tell the Warblers that they were the best family I ever had? Tell them that I'll miss them?"

Something still wasn't connecting. Kurt couldn't make himself believe that Blaine wasn't going to be able to tell the Warblers himself. All he could imagine was waking up from this nightmare that was draining the hope from his heart.

All he could imagine was pressing a soft kiss into his boyfriend's lips the next morning, knowing that they were both safe. They were both together and nothing was going to keep them apart.

_But what if I don't wake up? What if this is the end?_

"Will you, Kurt?" Blaine pleaded with him, and Kurt wasn't capable of responding in any other way than inclining his head in affirmation. At the small nod, the corner of Blaine's mouth twitched into a pitiful attempt at a smile. "Thank you… and Kurt?" This time, Blaine stared straight through his heart with clear, unafraid truth.

"I'll miss you the most… I've loved you so much."

That was all he could take. Something inside Kurt just _snapped_.

_No! This can't be the end! No! No! No! I won't let this be the end! I have to do something! I have to save him!_

"No, Blaine! I'm going to be with you, no matter what! You won't have to miss me! I swear, I'm staying with you!" Kurt found himself kneeling on the bathroom floor next to his boyfriend, reaching out with his unsteady arms to hold on to the boy he loved. "Please, Blaine, I love you! I need you!" The boy in his arms trembled, but seemed distant when his eyes met Kurt's.

_Why didn't I notice how much he was hurting before? I should have seen it! Maybe I could have done something!_

"I'm sorry," he murmured again in a voice that told Kurt those words weren't what Blaine meant.

Blaine had said goodbye.

_No! No! No! _

_Wake up! I need to wake up! Wake up! Blaine needs to wake up!_

But the heavy weight that rested with a limp unconsciousness over Kurt's arms wasn't something he could just dream.

_Wake up!_

A loud ringing was filling Kurt's ears, and he knew he wasn't getting enough oxygen to his lungs, but he could care less. His stomach had just flipped over itself, and now it was engulfing him from the inside. It was swallowing his heart, causing it to flutter in shreds like the ribbons of a torn flag. It was squeezing his lungs into the fist-sized black hole, turning the carbon he hadn't exhaled into coal within him. It was stealing his thoughts, making the lines of reality and imagination blur together into an unrecognizable mass. It was spinning the hands of the clock, speeding the seconds forward faster than Kurt could force his eyes to keep blinking. It was replaying the same name over in his brain like a broken internal alarm blaring in time with the surges of blood through his ears.

_Blaine!_

_Blaine!_

_Blaine!_

_Blaine! _

_Blaine! _

"Blaine! Blaine! Blaine! Blaine! Blaine!" With fumbling hands, he tried to hold his boyfriend up from the tile floor. He tried to make him open his eyes and sit up. He tried to make him open his mouth and say that everything was okay.

But Blaine wouldn't.

_Blaine!_

_Blaine!_

_Blaine!_

_Blaine!_

_Blaine!_

"Kurt?" Snapping his head around, Kurt's heart stumbled over itself. His mind spun wildly, yet at the same time it was blank with fear and hope.

Only the voice wasn't Blaine's. Standing in the doorway was a woman Kurt had forgotten lived in his house. In fact, he had forgotten that there was anyone else other than Blaine.

The next thing Kurt knew, there was another person on her knees beside him, easing the weight out of his arms. "Oh, God," she whispered with a breath of air. Important facts were failing Kurt, because he couldn't even remember that Carole was a nurse. All he knew was that his boyfriend was being taken away from him, and his instinct was to pull his arms in closer.

Bending down, Carole unsteady hands found Blaine's wrist and began searching for a pulse.

"There's a pulse." At the words he didn't realize he had been waiting for, Kurt let his lungs fill with air for the first time in minutes. _He's still alive… he's still alive! He's still alive! _

"Kurt?" Carole's voice had lost its usual soothing lilt, now frantic as she tried to rush the words out. "I need you to help me. I need you to get your father so that he can drive us to the hospital. Can you do that?"

The words weren't processing. All he heard was something about his father and the hospital, and he knew that was some sort of question he was supposed to answer. For some reason, though, Kurt couldn't get either his brain or his mouth to form words, let alone sentences.

"Burt! Burt!" Carole hollers right beside his ear didn't even cause him to flinch. "Burt!"

Everything was beginning to feel far away to Kurt, his panic inducing some sort of detachment from reality and vision was blurring around the edges.

His brain had stopped working, the adrenaline from the crisis mashing all of his thoughts into one word. Everything else was beginning to slip by unnoticed. Everything except for that one name.

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

Kurt couldn't remember his father's reaction upon entering the bathroom. He couldn't remember how mere moments later, Finn had come running in, their whole family now hyperactively aware of the problem that had been hidden in plain sight all along. He couldn't remember how Burt and Finn had managed to get Blaine downstairs and inside the car. He couldn't remember the way Carole kept trying to soothe him, saying that Blaine had taken one of Burt's medications and that it wouldn't cause much lasting damage if the doctors could pump his stomach soon enough. He couldn't remember when Carole had stopped trying to talk through her tears and when his father reached over to squeeze her hand. He couldn't remember his boyfriend's head laying in his lap as he compulsively wove curls around his fingers, praying that the wasn't the last time he could do this.

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

Suddenly, the warmth of his boyfriend vanished and his heart surged.

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

Paramedics were surrounding the car, trying to slide Blaine's unconscious body onto a gurney. As they began to roll his boyfriend away from him, something awoke in Kurt's chest.

"Wait!"

"Wait," he cried, flinging open his door and leaping out. "Wait! Wait! Wait!" Kurt's feet hit the pavement of the parking lot and he wavered before Carole grabbed his elbow to keep him from crumpling to the cement. "Wait…" A sob choked off his voice and shook his shoulders.

_Blaine._

_They're taking him away. _

_Blaine._

_They're taking Blaine away from me. _

_Blaine._

_This may be the last time I see him. _

_Blaine._

_This may be the end._

_Blaine._

Carole tried to sooth him, rubbing his back to try to get the wracking sobs to stop. "Shh, Kurt." Her voice was wet and quivering with tears of her own, but Kurt was far beyond noticing. "We have to go into the hospital now." As she led him towards the front doors, he couldn't even protest, no matter how much he wanted to break free and run after Blaine.

All he could do was shuffle forward, his eyes staring blindly forward at nothing. His chest was closing in again, but he didn't care about himself anymore. He wasn't the one that needed to be saved right now.

However, when they entered the hospital, memories tugged at the corners of his mind, trying to remind him of the last time he had been there. He felt Carole lower him carefully into a chair, but he wasn't truly paying attention. His thoughts were too busy filling his head with the horrors that usually disappeared when he woke up in the morning.

But he wasn't waking up. This was reality.

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

Staring at the white wall, the impact of what had just happened fully hit him, yet he almost didn't feel it through his numb terror.

_Blaine._

_Blaine… Blaine tried to commit suicide… and he may have succeeded._

_Blaine._

Somehow, the acrid stench of antiseptic filling his brain brought the blurred, frenzied thoughts into focus. All of his muscles seized up, squeezing his heart to pieces, constricting his throat, compacting his lungs, doubling him over with a sob trapped deep inside the dark hollows of his chest.

Squeezing his eyes closed and crumpling his brow, Kurt didn't care for once about the possible wrinkle lines forming as a result. He just couldn't stare at the endless floor that was so familiar.

Last time he remembered sitting in this room he was waiting for the doctors to tell him if his father, the man that was his entire past, was going to live.

This time he was waiting for the doctors to tell him if Blaine, the boy who was supposed to be his entire future would live.

_This time, it's not the end of my past._

_This time, I'm losing my future._

_This is the end of my future_

_This is the end of Blaine._

_This is the end of us._

_This is the end._

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><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**TBC**

**I swear it's not the end!**

**I originally meant for this chapter to wrap up some of the cliffhanger, but like I said, it didn't turn out as I was originally hoping. **

**I'd extremely appreciate it if you would review to let me know what you thought! **

**Here are some responses to my last reviews:**

**N600XL:**

**Thank you very much, and I'm sorry, you might just have to wait a little bit longer. **

**Richard's Confessor:**

**Well… yes…**

**bremela:**

**I love you for saying that! It's kind of unreal for my story to be in someone's top five because I can't imagine someone waiting for the next chapter of my story the way I wait for some of my favorites.**

**GinnyMartin:**

**Que Kurt, yes. Except for the fact that it didn't exactly fix everything…**

**mid-morning rain:**

**I've never heard the words "intended suicide" and "lovely" used it the same sentence before, but I'm glad you enjoyed it! Entertaining my readers is what I'm here to do!**

**Boredandhomealone:**

**Oh, I'm so sorry. I know just typing that out doesn't hold that much sentimentality, but I really am. I'm also sorry that this chapter didn't necessarily clear up that cliffhanger.**

**annkum:**

**Why do I do such not nice things to my favorite characters? Why? All I want to do is make them happy, but then **_**that **_**happens. But yes, it will definitely be a big wake up call.**

**mylisa777:**

**I try to keep improving as I write, and I hope you like this chapter too!**


	11. Chapter 11

**AN:**

**I know it's been a little too long and I should have written a longer chapter, but at least I don't leave you with a cliffhanger this time! I couldn't make myself write very much last weekend because there were spoilers leaked for the episode and I was kind of freaking out. Then, the episode aired, and I was still freaking out too much to write. But I finally did, so here it is. I hope you like it!  
><strong>

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><p>It could have been minutes, or it could have been hours, but it didn't matter. Kurt couldn't acknowledge the passing of time any longer. All he knew was that breathing was becoming more and more difficult. The white tiles seemed endless, and there was no point in even trying to figure out where they reached to because there was no reason for him to move forward. If he did, it would be like plunging into murky ink of the black sea and letting it swallow him whole. Right now, if he didn't have his Dad or Carole or Finn to worry about he might have done something that he wouldn't even have the chance to regret.<p>

Because there was nothing left of his future.

_There's nothing left._

_Blaine._

_This is the end._

_Blaine._

Somehow, Kurt didn't hear the loud squelch of white medical sneakers against a matching floor, but when they appeared in the corner of his vision there was nothing he could do to ignore them. Of course, he still wanted to, because the hem of the sea-foam green scrubs was enough to turn him to stone.

There was no way he could lift his eyes to see the mouth form those words that would only confirm that his strongest fear was coming true. Swallowing down the salt water that was strangling him, Kurt tried not to let the shrieks tied up in the knots of his throat escape.

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

An unfamiliar voice was speaking, uttering words that Kurt didn't want to think about.

"… overdose … thrombolytics … possible chance of hemorrhagic stroke…"

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

_Blaine._

The only sound he was waiting for was that one name.

Then, he heard it, mixed in with other words that he didn't realize would force an unnatural cry from his parting lips.

_Blaine._

* * *

><p>Strangely, the only image floating through his head was of standing on the beach, underneath a pier and just staring out at the vertical wooden poles reaching infinitely into the distance and disappearing into the sea. He was only eight or nine, and everything just seemed so <em>huge<em> to him.

Still, he didn't know what made him do it.

He didn't know what made him try to swim out to the end of the pier as the high tide was coming in. Maybe it was just an attempt to see if he could really reach all the way to Atlantis, or maybe he was just trying to get _away._

All he remembered from that day was the salt filling his eyes, his nose, his mouth. Waves crashed down on his head as he lost control of his body. Limbs flailed wildly, only coming in contact with the gritty sand of the ocean floor for a millisecond as the wave tried to force itself right through his skin. It was only seconds before he couldn't sense which way was down or which way was up. He just needed to find oxygen, because the salt water was trickling down his throat and he knew he was going to drown.

As the black specks had begun encroaching on his vision, the force of the wave trying to tear him apart lessened and his mouth broke the surface of the water. Though the air going down his throat felt raw and icy, his body craved more oxygen. When he finally blinked the sand from his eyes he realized that it wasn't just out of luck that he had found the surface again. His mother's concerned face was bowed over him, her eyebrows knit together in concern, but a smile broke her lips when she realized he was okay.

That was almost exactly how he felt right now. Blaine was slowly drowning inside of himself.

But this time, there was no one who could save him.

* * *

><p>All of the sounds were muffled, distant.<p>

He tried to open his eyes, but they seemed to be crusted shut, his eyelashes sealed together.

Finally, his eyelashes unglued themselves with a slight prick of pain. But it was nothing compared to the thunder in his brain. As it pulsed through his temples again he winced his barely open eyes into slits. Black was receding around the sides of his vision, creating a sort of frame.

Of the few things he could see, everything was blurring together. White and blue and peach and brown; just morphing together until he couldn't tell what his unblinking eyes were staring at.

He was absolutely underwater, his lungs trying to take in something other than the salt water that seemed to be blurring his vision, choking off his throat, suffocating him slowly but surely.

Not even his memory was working, because he couldn't remember what was causing this.

The only thing he remembered was that he needed someone to tell him that it was all a joke, that he was only dreaming, that everything was going to be okay.

But Blaine knew that it wasn't.

He remembered that this was supposed to be the end.

Inaudible sounds were growing louder, and all he wanted to do was shriek at them to be quiet because he needed to make his brain function again. He needed to think. Blaine knew that if he could, there would be something he could remember.

_There's something that I need to remember!_

But the noises just kept going until he began to recognize that they were voices. Blaine started to distinguish the pauses as breaks between sentences and the sounds of vowels and consonants forming familiar words. Gears were beginning to spin in his brain, although still sluggish with the thick water that was clogging his head.

Something in the sound of the voices made him think that they were trying not to be heard, but he couldn't figure out why that would be true.

_What's going on?_

Other colors were beginning to appear in his vision, and they were taking shapes that Blaine knew he should have found familiar. There was a rusty brown color that he didn't recognize as hair until the lighter pink and peach tone emerged beneath it.

_C-Carole?_

One of the hushed voices seemed to have been coming from her, and it was directed to the other blur of color. "… do you think … bring him home … how long?" Blaine's ears were only catching snippets of the conversation, and no matter how hard he tried to force his head above the surface, something still tugged him just beneath the foggy veil in his mind.

When the other voice spoke there was a harshness that took him by surprise. "We can't! … better … stay here … What if … again?" Blaine knew that gruff voice anywhere, no matter how muddled and disjointed the words sounded to his ears.

_Burt._

"Burt…," the soft female voice echoed his thoughts in a pleading tone. " … maybe … for Kurt?" At the sound of his boyfriend's name, something reminiscent of panic started spreading out from his chest and driving his heart rate up. His ears didn't register the change of pace of a beeping that previously held a steady beat.

_What's wrong? Where is Kurt? Is he okay? Is he hurt? _As Blaine's thoughts fired off at a rapid speed, the fog was burning off his brain. Slowly, he was beginning to comprehend some of his surroundings, especially those he could identify by touch. However, that _something_ he knew he should have remembered continued to evade him.

_Wait… where am I?_ Cotton sheets brushed against his bare skin and wrinkled between his fingers as he clenched his hands around the fabric. _What?_ The strange part wasn't that he was lying in bed, but… _Why are Carole and Burt in my room?_

Everything was just not right, but at the same time, Blaine couldn't figure out what was so wrong. Slowly but surely, the water clogging his head seemed to be evaporating. The blurs of of color were going in and out of focus, as if someone was trying to adjust a pair of binoculars. When shapes did clarify for a few seconds, everything else seemed to be a stark bright contrast to those isolated colorful spots. The words he heard had a clearer, crisper edge to them and Blaine flinched when Burt retorted with a raised voice, apparently having forgotten that he was supposed to be whispering.

"No! It's not like we can just bring him home and act like everything is perfectly normal! We've got to stop assuming that all wounds heal better with time and wake up to realize that people don't heal that way! People can't be helped if everyone 'round them just backs away to try to give them space!" There was a pause in Mr. Hummel's distressed speech as he stopped to take a breath of air, but then he just kept going. As Kurt's father spoke, Blaine felt the panic seeping through his bloodstream and raising in his throat. "We've got to _help _him, because if no one ever pushes him to share it will stay bottled up inside of him!"

Carole was simply letting her husband release this built up frustration at this point, knowing that it wasn't directed at her. Even if she had tried to stop him it would have be fruitless. Burt was furious at himself for not understanding that everything had continued to deteriorate over the past few months, and he needed to express it.

"Why didn't I notice before? For God's sake, Blaine tried to commit _suicide_!"

That was it.

In that instant it all came rushing back to him; the song, the dream, and then … everything. Air noisily whistled down Blaine's throat with his sharp intake of breath, scratching at raw skin of his esophagus.

_Oh, God. They know what I tried to do. Kurt knows. Oh, God… Kurt… Kurt found me… he saw me like _that…

Blaine mind was suddenly sharply astute, his vision clear, and the severe white of everything almost painful to his eyes. With his first few breaths, he tasted the antiseptic on the air and instantly realized where he was.

_Hospital. They brought me to the hospital. They saved me when I was only another burden for them to bear. I should have died! It would have saved them so much trouble…_

… _but … but Kurt … _Something was tugging at the edges of his heart, yet he didn't want to admit the truth.

That truth was that he was grateful for being saved, for still being alive. Because one of the most heartbreaking things he could remember through the haze of pills infringing on his memory was what he told Kurt. There were so many more things he had wanted to say, but at least what he said had been completely honest. He loved Kurt more than he could fathom, and as he had felt himself slipping away, a piece of his heart knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with Kurt.

But then, it had been too late. At least, he thought it had been too late until now, until he had woken up in this hospital bed.

"Blaine… can you hear me?"

With a jolt, his head turned and his eyes met Carole's worried ones. The beeping keyed up in speed, cataloging the spike in his heart rate on the monitor's screen with an electronic red line.

_Oh, God… what do I say? What do I tell them now that they know just how damaged I am?_ Blaine forced himself to attempt an answer of "yes", but the sound hardly passed his lips as a whisper. Still, it was enough for a faint smile to lift Carole's lips before she spun around as quickly as she could.

Urgently, she leaned down, and Blaine's eyes followed the line of her arm as it reached out to the boy sitting in a hard, plastic chair. _Kurt._ His knees were pulled up tight to his body and his arms were wrapped around them. Resting on top of his knees, his head lolled forward with the weight of sleep. At Carole's touch, he tilted his head upward and blinked the sleep from his eyes. Bringing the back of his hand to his cheek, Kurt wiped at the still-wet tear stains. The cerulean blue eyes seemed slightly swollen and were rimmed with pink, as if he hadn't stopped crying even while he slept._ It's my fault. I'm the one that caused him that pain. How could I do that to him? He doesn't need any more hurt in his life. He's been through enough. _

Then, those eyes found Blaine, and an utterly heart wrenching look crossed over Kurt's face. It only took seconds before he leaped from the chair and crossed to two-foot distance to the edge of the bed. Surely, he would have thrown his arms around the other boy if there hadn't been an IV drip taped securely to the inside of Blaine's wrist. As it was, when Kurt managed to maneuver around the tube he secured his arms in a vise around the boy in the hospital bed and buried his head into his boyfriend's shoulder. Blaine could feel the thin fabric of his clothing growing wet were Kurt's face rested, and he knew that tears were filling up his own eyes, ready to spill over at any second.

Words trembled from Kurt's mouth with an unsteady waver, some of them getting lost in the fabric of Blaine's hospital gown. "I thought… you were gone… there was no chance … it was all my fault…"

_No!_ Blaine wanted to shout back, but he still couldn't find his voice. _It's not your fault at all! The only affect you had was to fix me a little bit, but I was too broken. I just couldn't take it anymore. I deserved to die, because you were doing more than enough, yet I still couldn't be happy. I couldn't forget _him,_ or what he did to me. I was just being so selfish, not thinking about how much my actions would hurt everyone else._

Blaine felt Kurt's surprisingly strong arms pull him closer. Returning the gesture, Blaine settled his chin on top of his boyfriend's thin shoulder. Despite the comforting arms wrapped around him, there was an anger that was building up in his stomach, and it was directed at himself. _How could I put Kurt through all of this? It wasn't fair to him! None of this stopped the pain! All it did was add more to everybody else! That wasn't what I wanted! That's the _opposite _of what I wanted! Every time I try to stop being a burden, I only become more of one. Why do I only screw up everything more? When will everything finally get better? When will I be fixed?  
><em>

With a hiccup of a sob, Kurt's body shook against his boyfriend's chest. Suppressing his own sobs, Blaine practically choked on the air catching in his throat. _I'm so sorry to make you hurt this much, Kurt. I'm so sorry._

"I'm so sorry." If Blaine's mouth hadn't been so close, Kurt probably wouldn't have been able to make out the faint whisper. Pulling away just a few inches, Kurt stared into Blaine's eyes with a strong intensity that wasn't dulled by the tears still rolling off the tip of his flushed nose.

"Don't you dare say that again," he threatened in a soft tone. "Just so long as you promise me to never do anything like this again... I don't think I could handle this a second time." Kurt dropped his gaze as he spoke the last sentence, almost afraid to meet his boyfriend's eyes.

_For you, Kurt, I'll do anything. _

"I promise."

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><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**Well, there's no awful cliffhanger! Still, I would love to hear what you thought about this! Reviews honestly make me so pathetically happy! **

**Also, whenever I reach 50 reviews I'm thinking of writing a one-shot for the 50****th**** reviewer. Would anyone be interested in that? It could either be a story of the reviewer's choice, or just a one-shot dedicated to them. I just want to thank all of you who reviewed because I never expected to reach 50!**


	12. Chapter 12

**AN:**

**Well, it's been a while. Most of you have probably forgotten that this story exists, and some of you are probably frustrated with me for not updating. I honestly did not mean to just not write for so many months, it just sort of happened. I could give the reasons why, but I don't really want to sound like I'm complaining. So, I'll just keep it simple. I am so, **_**so sorry**_** that I basically disappeared and haven't been writing this story. **

**Also, I don't really know which reviews I responded to or not, but I promise this time to respond to all of them in private messages! Also, I said in the last chapter that I would write a one-shot for the 50****th**** reviewer if anyone was interested, so please just let me know if you are.**

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><p>Tilting his chin up, Kurt eased his head back until it rested against the wall behind him. His neck had started to get stiff. Honestly, his entire body felt cramped from sitting in that plastic chair for as long as humanly possible. <em>I would take a stiff neck any day over leaving Blaine.<em> Kurt almost refused to leave his side ever since early that morning, while it was still dark outside, when Blaine had woken up. The only time he had to leave was when the psychiatrist needed to have a few minutes alone to talk with Blaine. By now, Kurt's legs were growing numb and his toes were tingling with lack of blood circulation.

Not much later after he had first awoken, Blaine had given in to his heavy eyelids and the darkness of sleep that still beckoned him due to the residual drugs in his bloodstream. Finn had attempted to carry on a light banter with Kurt for a little bit, hoping to incite the snappy comebacks that always bit back at him. However, the desired reaction did not come, and even Finn wasn't too dense to understand the effect of the situation on Kurt.

Soon, Finn made his escape from the heavy atmosphere to the hospital cafeteria. Of course it was just a hospital cafeteria, but Finn wasn't one to be picky about his food, just as long as there was plenty of it.

Burt and Carole passed quiet looks, wishing they could actually speak to each other but not wanting to leave Kurt alone in the room. So, they continued on in silence. Kurt hardly acknowledged their exchanges, staring at the ceiling tiles, not able to get a hold on his thoughts.

_Blaine tried to… he tried to kill himself._ The words still had a bitter bite in Kurt's mind that made him stumble over the thought. The words had repeated over and over in his mind, but the meaning left the same nausea in his stomach. It was one of the last things he had expected, and now that the imminent threat of Blaine's death was past, Kurt was left to consider what caused the actions.

Kurt wanted to believe Blaine's promise that he wouldn't do it again. He wanted to believe those words, he really did. That sparkling look that shone over his eyes was begging Kurt to believe, so he did.

At least for a little while.

Because even though Kurt knew so many of the reasons his boyfriend had for attempting to commit suicide, he still didn't know exactly what had driven him to that point. Of course, there were the things that Blaine wasn't saying, but Kurt was almost positive that those were getting better. _Well, I thought they had been, but I guess it's impossible to know what's really going on inside Blaine's head. Or maybe I just wasn't paying enough attention… if I had just looked a little deeper past that strained smile that didn't reach his eyes… if I had just pushed him to say a few more words… if I had just listened past his words… maybe I would have been able to fix him just a little bit more. _

Kurt was done with not discussing Blaine's past. Whether it had been because he struggled with facing his boyfriend's treacherous demons, or even if it had been entirely unselfish and in what he thought was the best intentions didn't matter. All he knew was that he didn't just want to make an effort to pretend everything was fine; he really needed to act.

_I could have started to put the pieces of his heart back together, rather than simply trying to continue on with the way I saw our lives going. What I really need to do is listen. I can't be the same petty boy that I was before I met Blaine. Even the fact that he was… he was…_ There was that word that his mind stumbled over, that it wouldn't quite grasp. _Simply the fact that he was… abused… should have been enough for me to realize just how bad everything was, but I was so dense that I just couldn't realize how _damaged_ he was._ _Why did I have to let it get this bad? Why couldn't I have had a wake up call that was less dangerous than this? What if I could have done something before to make this better? What if just talking about it would have made it better?_

The ceiling was practically taunting him, meeting his gaze with a blank, white stare that only made his insides squirm more.

Not to mention the silence in which there was only the slow, steady beep of Blaine's heart-monitor. Maybe it should have come as a sort of consolation, reminding him that the boy he loved was still alive, but instead it just reminded him of how close to death Blaine had come.

Kurt understood that today was supposed to be so hard, but maybe he just hadn't understood what that would entail. Today everything just seemed so fragile, as if it would shatter if he even looked at it the wrong way.

"Excuse me." At the sound of a voice, Kurt was immediately alert. The doctor stood in the doorway, a taut expression on his face. Accompanying him was a woman who Kurt recognized as the psychiatrist. "I need to talk to you for a moment while, Jenna, talks with Blaine alone." The realization of the doctor's words hit him hard; he had to leave Blaine's side. _Wait… what does he need to talk about? Is everything okay?_ Of course, Kurt couldn't stop the worry from creeping into his mind. Hell, it was already there, it had intruded months ago that night when Blaine first arrived at his house. There were months when the nagging thoughts ebbed, when Kurt was taken by Blaine's pretense. Now, it was back stronger than ever, an immediate panic that gripped him right behind his ribcage.

There was a nudge against Kurt's shoulder, and he realized that he let him mind get the best – or worst – of him once again. Carole took his hand to almost pull him from the chair, but to his surprise, she didn't let go. _It's almost like I'm a little kid again and I need to hold my parent's hand to cross the street._ Much to his distress, this was much greater than simply crossing the street.

With one last glance over his shoulder as he left the room, Kurt was able to catch a glimpse of Blaine waking up. It wasn't simply that the sparkle and smile was replaced with a dull fear. No, that had been going on for weeks, but now was different. Now, the caramel irises seemed dull, single-shaded, drained of emotion. _Maybe it's just the residual drugs._ Even in thinking that excuse, Kurt couldn't make himself believe, because he already knew it was untrue.

Before he had a chance to even think of one last thing to say to his boyfriend, the doctor closed the door, leaving Blaine alone with the psychiatrist.

"So," the dark haired doctor addressed Burt and Carole, immediately getting right to the point. "It has just come to our attention that Blaine is not your son, nor are you his legal guardians." The words hung in the air with a stern, tense note. "Is this correct?" In the doctor's voice, Kurt could sense a condescending manner that would have agitated him if not for his current disconnect from the situation.

"Yes, that is correct." Burt answered the same terse voice as he had been addressed with.

"You understand that this means we need a member of his family to verify that he has health insurance and also pay for the medical bill?" He at least waited for Burt's acknowledgement before continuing. "Are there any immediate family members that we can contact? A mother, a father…?"

_Blaine's father…_ "No!" Kurt broke his silent staring and took a lunging step forward. He could see the doctor back up, and instantly he realized what he had done. "No." He managed to lower his still venomous voice. "There is no one to contact," Kurt said stonily before he drew back and became reserved once more. _If they did call his father… if his father came…_

Kurt could hardly fathom the disaster that would ensue and the effect it would have on Blaine in his fragile state, the thought sending tremors down through his fingertips.

"Are you sure there is absolutely no one we can contact?" The doctor coaxed, trying to accommodate Kurt's outburst by speaking instead in a tone that dripped with false sweetness. Underneath his skin, Kurt could feel the heat of anger building because the doctor just didn't understand the trauma he could inflict on his patient if he contacted any family members. There was no telling just how Blaine's father would react to finally knowing where his son was again. _To be honest_, Kurt realized,_ I don't even know what the situation was when Blaine left his father, but I can't even imagine the anger – _Kurt cut himself off before any additional unnecessary terrors crept into his mind.

It came as a much-desired relief to Kurt when his father took the liberty to answer for him. "You heard my son. There is no one that you should contact. Do you understand?" Most of the time, despite his gruff composure, Burt was truly soft. This was not one of those times. Now, his paternal instinct to keep his son – no, not just his son, but also Blaine– safe was almost tangible through his sheer force of words. "We will be paying for the cost of the medical bill."

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><p>Waking up from his unsettled sleep, Blaine felt the weight of the drugs in his system, hanging over his like a constant fog. By the time that he had finally blinked his eyelashes apart, Kurt and his family were being ushered out the doorway by his doctor. His chest immediately tightened as the psychiatrist shut the door behind her and the two of them were left in the room alone. Though his brain was functioning sluggishly, he still knew that there was something wrong. <em>Oh god, what did I say wrong. I thought that I said everything she wanted to hear? What did I say wrong? <em>

"So, Blaine, how are you doing today?" The psychiatrist, Jenna, kept her voice steady and gentle. _Like she actually cares._ The thought struck Blaine unaware. He didn't expect to be observant while his mind was still clouded, but it reminded him that at least his brain comprehended more than it had been earlier. Blaine couldn't remember anything of his previous session with her other than knowing her name. Because of that he questioned what he might have said, but he was fairly confident that he hadn't said much about his past. _I never tell anyone much about my past._

However, to be completely honest, Blaine almost felt like he could relax his walls around her. Not totally, but maybe just a little bit. _Maybe I can tell her a little bit._

Another moment passed before Blaine brought his thoughts back to something that could be considered focused and he realized that he was probably supposed to have answered Jenna a few minutes ago. When Blaine looked up at the face framed by russet bangs, he could tell that she was waiting patiently. Still, he didn't even know how to answer her question. _How am I doing… how am I doing?_

"It's okay," Jenna cut in, "you don't have to answer that. There's just something that the doctor called me in to discuss and I didn't want to bombard you with it right away so I started out with some small talk." _That's it. There is something wrong._ Panic started to set in but Blaine still felt disconnected, as if it wasn't really happening. He could even pretend that none of it had happened, that it was a bad dream. Anyways, his bad dreams were very detailed. He could practically feel the pain –

_Stop._

Suddenly, he realized just how dangerous the lack of control over his brain was. Blaine's heartbeat pounded in his ears, the roar downing out the words that Jenna's mouth formed. His hands started to shake, and Blaine hoped to God that she wouldn't notice. But of course, she did.

For a few seconds, he attempted to meet her probing eyes, but that was as long as he could stand before he broke the eye contact to gaze at the wall behind her. "Blaine?" If he wasn't mistaken that was genuine concern in her voice, but he didn't want to believe it because that would make it near impossible to just tell her that it was nothing. _I need to tell her what she wants to hear so that I can go home with Kurt._

"Okay," she tried again, "I get the feeling that this isn't going to be easy any way I try, but please just bear with me. These are things that you can't change, but they don't define who you are. I'm going to start out slowly, so please just stop me if you can't handle what I'm saying. Okay?" Even though Blaine nodded his head he knew that, despite the things she might be say, he would try not to stop her because it would only show her just how broken he was.

_She knows. The doctor knows. They all know._

Blaine's eyes stayed fixed on the spot on the wall as Jenna started talking. "We know that the Hummels are not your family. They are taking care of the legal necessities and the cost of treatment right now, so that's not what I want to talk to you about. No matter how much I wish it wasn't true, as a psychiatrist at a hospital I have seen patients in similar situations." Of course, Blaine knew she wasn't talking about attempted suicide; it was more than that, but at least he could tell what was coming. Even if he could never really _prepare_ himself for what others said he could try to reinforce his walls. But for some reason, maybe because of his vulnerable state or maybe because Jenna legitimately _cared_, his walls didn't seem to want to hold steady.

"After this was brought to my attention, I asked the doctor to pull some of your previous hospital records." She paused again, but her eyes weren't searching his face to find information like Blaine would have assumed. Instead, it seemed like she was trying to think of the right way to word what she was attempting to say. "Your most recent visit was for the treatment of a broken rib. It was also noted that you had sustained bruising. All of this was attributed to bullying." Blaine could remember that clearly, it was just after his sixteenth birthday. The memories tightened his chest and pricked at the corners of his eyes, threatening his hands to tremble. He could remember the very blow that broke his ribs.

However, he knew that none of it was caused by bullying. And Jenna knew that too.

If it was possible, she lowered her voice even more as she offered up the next question. "That… that wasn't caused by bullying, was it?" It was a rhetorical question – or at least Blaine hoped so. Because there was no way in hell that he was going to formulate an answer.

"It was your father, wasn't it?" Despite her gentle tone, the next words caused a sharp panic to shoot through his lungs, catch his breath, and slam his heart to a sickening pace.

"You were abused."

For a split second, he almost thought of refuting it, but he didn't have the energy or the willpower. _She knows. No one else was supposed to know. I've already told too many people._ He shifted his focus to another, equally blank point on the wall, trying to keep his composure, trying to keep his clenching, twisted, disgusting thoughts a secret. _And she's going to want me to talk about it… why I deserved to be hurt… why I still deserve to be hurt._

Even though she saw the panic play across his face, Jenna continued talking. It wasn't rude for her to do so; of course anyone in Blaine's situation would have seemed frightened. "You are over eighteen now, so you don't have to return to your father, but the option of living alone is not something I would recommend to anyone in as fragile a state as you." _If I lived alone, who knows how long I would survive before I…_

_No. I have Kurt. I have Burt. They won't leave me… but what if they do… what if what I've done is too much?_

"I'm sorry for being so blunt," Jenna said, and Blaine wished he hadn't heard how honestly apologetic she sounded. "But this is something that we need to address, and we only have so long to talk. It is necessary for you to let someone know about this and how long it has been going on. If I could, I would like to ask you some questions," she ventured, "but I'm not making you answer them if you don't feel emotionally capable. I'm just trying to figure out how to better help you. Will you let me?" Again, she ended in a question, and by now Blaine understood that it was done on purpose. She was trying to leave every comment of hers open for him to speak, because that was, he realized, what therapy was about.

In response Blaine gave a small mumble that signified his consent. However, he knew he wasn't capable of answering her questions. _I have to say I will, though. I have to give her the knowledge – even if it is feigned – that I am capable of living away from the hospital. I need to say the right things so that I can go home with Kurt._

By now, Blaine's eyes were practically starting to hurt from the white wall he was staring intently at, but he didn't dare look at Jenna because he was positive it would make it only that much easier for him to break.

"Can you start from the beginning? Do you remember when it first happened?"

His response came out robotic and rehearsed. "When I was five." He didn't say anything else. He _couldn't_ say anything else without breaking.

"Do you know… can you remember what caused it?" Despite the gentle tone she was using, the question still sparked a key of terror in his mind. Because he had finally remembered. It didn't happen right in that instant, it had happened before that. To be exact, he had remembered the night came to Kurt's, with his father's threat still haunting and captivating his mind.

However, he had remembered during the night, when everyone was asleep – when Kurt wasn't there to see him crumble. But the mask of night somehow disguised it as a dream, that he could wake up from and pretend was not reality. That dream had still lingered on the outskirts of his mind, teasing at the idea that there was something he couldn't remember, something he still needed to tell Kurt.

Then, it had resurfaced. In reliving the night of his departure the realization came again. That time, it was hidden in his subconscious, just the knowledge that that dream hadn't simple been that: a dream. Instead, it had been a memory. It was the memory that Blaine had suppressed for so long because he though – he _knew_ – that it was the reason for all his pain. It was the reason that he had needed to die, because he thought maybe that would make everything better.

Oh _God_, he felt like he was going to be sick. He only took a breath when absolutely necessary because it took so much effort. His chest seemed to be collapsing and exploding at the same time, and he wrapped his arms across his torso and gripped at his sides to keep himself from breaking apart. Without realizing it, Blaine had squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't care anymore whether the psychiatrist saw his panic or not; he just needed to keep from tumbling into a worse state of his memory. However, no matter how tightly he tried to hold his chest together or how loud the ringing in his ears got, he could feel his mind succumbing to the memory.

It was as if he had travelled back in time to the night where his entire world had fallen apart. He could hear his mother's voice in his mind. _"Shhh…" _In that moment, Blaine had thought she was trying to calm him, but in retrospect, he realized that it was herself she was trying to get control of. He had felt her hand enveloping his own small hand as he lay in his bed and cried, but it was also to ground her to something. Her entire body shook violently with tears that Blaine did not see, but he could feel them when they fell from above him._ "B-Blaine," _her trembling, water-filled voice was broken but at least it wasn't empty or numb. That was a good thing… right? _"We c-can't tell anyone what D-Daddy did. P-promise. If anyone f-finds out, he'll go away f-forever. He d-didn't mean to do that to… h-her. He didn't m-mean to, he j-just got t-too angry… he d-didn't mean to… he didn't mean to… he didn't mean to…" _

That was what Blaine repeated to himself for so many years. _He didn't mean to. He didn't mean to._ Blaine's world revolved around that for that first year. _He didn't mean to._ It took years for him to realize that even if his father hadn't meant to then, he surely did mean what he was doing now. Still, Blaine did nothing but take whatever his father dealt at him. He took it until he couldn't any longer. He took it until Kurt saved him.

But all Blaine wanted to do was pretend that none of his past ever happened, that he wasn't here in the hospital, that he hadn't tried to kill himself. However, none of the above was going to happen – it couldn't.

Because here sat Blaine Anderson, the boy who was expected to be perfect, the boy who was supposed to be strong, the boy who wanted to satisfy his father, the boy who wanted to save his mother, the boy who wanted to be good enough.

That was the boy that could never _be_.

Instead, he was Blaine Anderson, the boy who was abused, the boy who was bullied, the boy who was gay, the boy who was an abomination to his father, the boy who was left by his mother, the boy who wanted to die, the boy who _deserved_ to die.

Blaine was the boy who was broken.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**So, you probably thought that all the bad stuff was going to be over, but this is just one of the very few things that I've actually been planning since the beginning. I'm not sure how exactly everyone's going to like it but… yeah.**

**Thank you very much for reading! **


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